Home Is Where My Heart Is
by lovemesomelongmire
Summary: Walt's been away from Vic for a week. It's Valentine's Day and he's coming home..This was supposed to be a one-shot...but maybe not! LOL:) I keep hearing 'give us more'...:)
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **

**Just a little something for Valentine's Day. Inspired by the late, great John Denver, a man whose passing still makes me sad. Hope you're riding that Rocky Mountain High, John...:) Thanks for all the wonderful songs...**

**As you can now see, this story has grown and grown at YOUR requests:) Sure do hope you all enjoy how it's evolving...:).Slowly, but surely! LOL:)**

**Yes, I'm still working on this - July/2016:)**

**Chapter 1**

"Hey, Walt…thanks for all your help. Didn't mean to pull you away from Absaroka this long. Just hope they managed to make do without you."

"I've got good people working for me" I assured Sheriff Tracy McKay as I handed him my report, "They managed just fine without me."

I vaguely wondered how a man made it through life with a name like that but after meeting him for the first time this past week, I'd found out that Tracy was as tough as nails. Maybe having a first name normally associated with women did something to a man; made him more 'manly'. It was something I'd never had any experience with. 'Walter' was about as male as a person could get after all and really, what did I know about Montana and its ways? Well, after spending the last six days with the Sheriff, working undercover to bust a meth ring whose operation affected my county as well, I knew a little bit more and I genuinely liked this man standing before me, even if I did have to look down at him.

Tracy was a lot shorter than I was, maybe five foot eight, built on the slender side, but strong. He had taken a pretty good left hook to his right eye from one of our suspects, but he hadn't gone down and he hadn't given up. He was also a great deal younger than I was which might have helped with him staying upright. I admired his grit and determination. For once, I had been the one to escape injury, and it was strangely nice to be looking at a guy with a black eye and only feeling his pain through remembrance.

He threw my report on his desk and ran his hands through his sandy-blonde hair. We both looked at the wall clock in his office. It was just after 1700hrs and I could feel time weighing heavy upon me.

"How would you like to go get a beer?" Tracy asked hopefully. "It's been a hell of a week and I could use a drink about now."

"Id like to, but I best be getting on home" I declined,

"Really? I mean, it's Saturday night, the Blue Angel will be rockin' with a live band and we could both use a little excitement of the ordinary kind." He sounded pretty eager.

With that statement, it became obvious to me that Tracy was not a married man, or in any kind of serious relationship. I pointed to the date on the desk calendar.

"It's Valentine's Day, Tracy," I reminded him.

"Ya, I know…but, well…" and he was squirming a little under my direct gaze.

"Just spit it out, son" I encouraged him.

" I, uh…I'm pretty well single" he began, "and I heard you were a widower, so I figured maybe you might just want to go out and forget what day it was…have some fun…" and geez, did he look embarrassed.

"You 'heard' I was a widower?" I was curious.

"Well, you're kind of a big deal, even up here in Billings. We've all heard about Walt Longmire, the badass Sheriff of Absaroka County, Wyoming. Your reputation is the only reason I was allowed to bring you in on this investigation."

So, my reputation had preceded me. That was fine, I supposed, even though the description was not accurate. Badass? What interested me more was what my marital status had to do with any of it.

"So, that's what they're saying about me, huh? What's that got to do with me being a widower?"

Tracy took a step back, hands slightly raised. I guess I was looking a little too pointedly at him. I should have backed off a bit but it was fun to see him a little nervous around me. Hey, I was a badass of legend; had to make sure I left with that impression intact.

"It's just talk, Sheriff" and suddenly I wasn't just plain old 'Walt' anymore. I raised an eyebrow, indicating for him to go on and explain. He was as smart a man as I had given him credit for; he proceeded.

"It was in all the papers, even up here, how you solved your wife's murder" and he had the grace to look down, contrite. A year ago, I might just have reached across his desk and smacked him for bringing the subject up, but a lot had changed since then. Instead, I put my hands on my hips and laughed softly.

"Tracy, it's okay…That was a while ago and I guess, technically, I'm still a widower, but there's someone waiting at home for me now, so as much as I'd love to have a drink with you, I can't" and he raised his head to look at me apologetically.

"I'm really sorry, Walt, I didn't know. I shouldn't have assumed…"

"Like I said, it's okay" and I smiled a little to show him that it really was. "We don't all stay lonely, even an old guy like me. There's always hope, Tracy", and I reached out to clap a hand on his shoulder instead of hitting him. My, how times had changed me!

"You go out tonight with that black eye and you might just meet the woman of your dreams" I encouraged him with a grin. I felt him relax and he smiled.

"I was hoping to have you as my wing-man," he told me. "You can call yourself old all you want, Walt, but Jeez, you still put us young bucks to shame out there and the women love you!"

Really? I found that hard to believe and I frankly didn't give a damn one way or the other.

"Sorry to leave you solo" I told him with a chuckle, "but there's only one woman I'm interested in and her opinion of me is the only one I care about."

"I don't think I'll spread that story around" he assured me. "I'll just tell the ladies I got to hang out with you and with this shiner that ought to spark some interest!"

"Well, a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do" I laughed, "and speaking of which, do you mind if I use your phone?"

"You go right ahead." Tracy seemed more than happy to oblige me. "I'm going to file this paperwork and go check on the prisoners downstairs." He took my report from his desk and made his way to the door.

"You are pretty bad-ass, Walt" he told me with a grin, "and it was great working with you. Honestly, I owe you one."

"Might just have to hold you to that," I warned him, "and hey, that bad-ass part, well, sure, spread that around. Creeps might think twice about coming down to my county!"

"They should! Hey, if I don't see you before you take off, you take care of yourself and if you're ever back up this way, stop by just to say 'hi'. It was my sincere pleasure and an honour working with you."

"Likewise, Sheriff and I will stop in, maybe just to check on the shiner! Be safe out there, Tracy."

"Always try to be" he called back as he opened the door, "same to you," and he left the room.

I moved behind his desk and sat down. Nice chair, but not as nice as mine. Nice office, too, if you liked the 'modern' look, all glass and chrome and a damn laptop sitting on his desk. I was missing my wooden walls, my big old, heavy wooden desk, the wall sconces I'd inherited along with the office, and where the hell were the pronghorn heads gazing down at me? Yup, it was more than time to go home.

I missed my office, my staff; Ruby and her post-its, Ferg and his enthusiasm, Branch and his new-found modesty and eagerness to let me mentor him, but most of all, I missed Vic...

I picked up the telephone receiver and dialed her cell number. I listened to it ring once, twice, three times. On the fourth, she picked up.

"Hello?" I heard her say curiously.

"Hey" I spoke, a smile coming to my lips. The thought of her always made me smile.

"Hey yourself," she answered back and I could hear the surprise and happiness in her voice.

"I'm done here," I informed her.

"Does that mean you're headed home?" There was guarded hope in her voice. I felt myself relax and my smile grew, along with other things. The way the sound of her voice aroused me thrilled me every time.

"I'll be leaving as soon as I hang up," but I needed to know something first.

"Where are you?" I asked.

"At the cabin, just like we planned." My heart skipped a beat.

"Do you mean what I think you mean?" It was my turn to be hopeful.

"Sure do, Cowboy! Henry helped me move my stuff in and Cady and I picked up a few things to make it a little homier. Hope you like what I've done with the place, Walt…"

" I'm sure I will, Vic. I trust you", and I most certainly did. "I feel bad, though, leaving you with all the work. It was supposed to be me helping you. It was supposed to be 'us'…"

"Hey, not your fault! Someone else needed you more than I did, so it's all good. I am just so damn excited that you're coming home tonight! Now it's my turn to need you, Walt and I really, really do!" and she laughed that suggestive, sexy laugh of hers and I caught my breath.

"Is this the part where I ask you what you're wearing?" I teased.

"If you want to nurse a hard-on all the way home, then yeah, go ahead and ask! You're gettin' good at this, Walt!"

"Oh, Vic" I laughed, "you are so bad….but so damn good!"

"Speak for yourself," she sassed back, "but hey, it doesn't hurt that you have the sexiest voice I've ever heard! You can't really expect me to hear it and not get hot, can you?"

"Funny, I was thinking the same thing about yours and as for 'nursing' something all the way back home, forget it; it's too late! All I can say is it's a good thing I'm alone right now!"

"Jesus, Walt!" she breathed. "Isn't it like two and a half hours from there to here? I'm not sure if I can wait that long." I was sure I couldn't wait either but the anticipation would be sweet.

"I'll make it in under two, I promise," I vowed, almost as breathless as she sounded.

"I'll make you something nice to eat. Already got the fire going. All we need now is the celebration." I pictured it all in my mind; it was perfect.

"Oh, we'll celebrate all right. I wouldn't miss Valentine's Day with you, Vic." My hand crept in to my jacket pocket to feel the gift I had gotten her. Still there. I knew she was going to love it, just as I loved her.

"It's just like you said it would be, Walt" and all the playfulness was gone from her voice now. "We made it, so far…"

"…and we'll keep on making it, Vic. No doubt in my mind about that." I was serious now, too. "I love you. I'll always love you and things can only get better now"

"I love you, too….and for the first time in my life, I know exactly what those words mean. Hurry home, Walt. I'll be waiting for you."

She brought tears to my eyes. Only I knew the struggle she'd gone through to come to this moment in her life, this moment in our life. The first time she'd said those words to me had cost her everything; her pride, her dignity, her humility and I would never forget that day or the way I'd felt when I had seen just how vulnerable she had made herself to me. Neither one of us had been eager to open ourselves up for the possible hurt, but in the end, we'd both done it. It had been so difficult, but necessary to get over that one big obstacle in our relationship. She'd been the first to give in although my intentions had been the same; she'd just beaten me to the moment. When I thought about that time, I loved her even more for making that first move.

We'd come a long way in a month and a half, both of us having to swallow our damnable pride and let the other in, but the tears and the cursing and the arguments had all been worth it. There was nothing hidden between us anymore and in forcing each other to speak the truth, we had set each other free. We were what we were to each other; open, honest, vulnerable and helpless to the love between us. What had started out tearing us apart had ended up bringing us even closer together. Nothing on earth was going to keep me from Vic ever again and I knew she felt the same way about me. I KNEW it and what a wonderful feeling it was.

"Now that you're there, Vic, home really is where my heart is. I'll be there before you know it because I can't stand to be away and I can't live without my heart."

"And I can't live without mine, either, Walt. Be safe. Be fast. Be here so I can show you just how much I miss you."

"Wild horses or wandering buffalo won't keep me away," I laughed because if I didn't I would end up crying silly tears of joy. I got the feeling Vic was feeling the same way.

"Um, just so y'know and to make the trip a little more interesting, I should tell you I just put on an apron ….over absolutely nothing" and yup, my feeling had been right on.

"I swear the Devil lives inside of you, girl," and we both laughed. "See you so very soon, baby…and Walt junior sends his love. Says he's pretty eager to see you, too" and we made our goodbyes with good humour.

I hung up the phone, awash in the good feelings Vic always brought up in me. Awash in something a little baser, too…but what the hell? She got to me and I prayed she always would. I'd accepted all of myself when it came to her, as she'd accepted all of herself and my heart was light and beating strongly when Tracy came in and surprised me.

"Wow, Walt, you look mighty happy," he grinned.

I grabbed my hat and placed it on my head.

"I am that," I told him matter-of-factly. I held out my hand. He took it.

"A pleasure, Tracy….but I'm outta here. Y'know, there is nothing like going home when you have someone waiting for you who loves you, warts and all. You should work on that, son."

"I might just, seeing what it does to you. Take care, Walt. Hope to see you again….and your woman."

"Be careful what you wish for," I told him with a smile and a wink. I laughed at the puzzlement on his face and then I was heading out of the office to my truck.

I got in, glancing at the mixed bouquet of red and white roses I'd bought on the way back to the station. Red was traditional but the combination of both colours was supposed to symbolize more than love; the two together meant unity and that's how I felt about Vic. We loved each other, our acting upon that love united us, and that's how we faced the world – together. That's the message I wanted to convey to her.

I started the truck and pulled away, leaving the city behind me. Once I hit the open road, I kicked in all the horses and let them run. The sun was setting over the land, turning the sky to fire before me. Deep reds waltzed hand in hand with subtler pinks and the sight made me exhale a sigh of gratitude. A week in the city had certainly been more than enough for me. Out here on the open road, I felt a belonging that was hard to describe.

I turned on the radio, catching the tail end of the news. Heard about the bust we'd made with indifference and then the music cut in. I wasn't really listening all that well at first. My attention was on the sunset, my thoughts on going home…

…and then the words of the song cut through my thoughts.

"_Hey, it's good to be back home again._

_Sometimes this old farm feels like a long lost friend._

_Yes, and hey, it's good to be back home again."_

John Denver. I'd listened to him a great deal back in my youth. One of the greatest songwriters this country had ever known. A simple man, simply but eloquently speaking about the things that meant the most to him. Gone way too soon and would there ever be another like him? I somehow doubted it.

_"Oh, the time that I can lay this tired old body down,_

_and feel your fingers feather soft upon me._

_The kisses that I live for, the love that lights my way,_

_the happiness that living with you brings me."_

That verse made me ache for Vic. I felt exactly that way sometimes and I couldn't wait to feel her touch, light and gentle upon me. When I was feeling old, she made me feel new again. Just words to a song, but they got to me. For the first time in forever, I did something I hadn't done in a long while. I settled myself in, turned up the music and began to sing….

_"It's the sweetest thing I know of, just spending time with you._

_It's the little things that make a house a home._

_Like a fire softly burning and supper on the stove,_

_the light in your eyes that makes me warm."_

Just me and John, cruising down the highway. I was the lucky one, though; I was heading for the home he'd written about, a home he must've known at some point in his short life but never had the chance to hang on to. Things were going to be different for me. For Vic and me. I checked on the present in my pocket again. Still there. This was going to be a Valentine's Day to remember….and just one of so many more to come.

The song ended and I let my eyes roam the skies, wondering if Vic had taken a moment to step outside and watch the sun's goodbye. Behind the sunset lurked dark clouds, promising snow. I hoped she'd been quick enough to catch the beauty before the storm. Just picturing these hues of red reflected in her eyes made me smile. Let the weather do what it wanted to; she was waiting for me and knowing that would get me through anything Mother Nature decided to throw at me.

"I'll be home before you know it, Vic," I whispered and the word had never sounded so good or so right… I turned off the radio and started the song from the beginning, a cappella, actually pleased with the sound of my deep voice. Maybe I'd play this on the piano and sing it for Vic after supper. She just might like my singing. Then again, maybe the song would have to wait for later. I was pretty confident that Vic had other plans for 'dessert'. I concentrated on the words to the song in an effort to curb my appetite for that particular course. Seemed like the less distracted thing to do.

_"There's a storm across the valley, clouds are rolling in,_

_the afternoon is heavy on your shoulders._

_There's a truck out on the four lane, a mile or more away,_

_the whining of his wheels just makes it colder._

_He's an hour away from riding on your prayers up in the sky_

_and ten days on the road are barely gone._

_There's a fire softly burning, supper's on the stove,_

_but it's the light in your eyes that makes him warm."_

Yup, that about said it all. Home truly was where my heart was waiting for me…

I looked to the skies ahead of me and thanked John Denver for the song. I wished him well, wherever he may be; home at last, I hoped… and may his home be as sweet, wonderful and complete as mine was now. Deep and abiding love was all a man could ever hope for and sometimes, more than he deserved. I wasn't about to look that particular gift-horse in the mouth. I was a lucky man; I knew it. I was going to ride that horse instead, all the way, and I was taking Vic along for the ride with me. I could just hear her say 'giddy up, cowboy' and I smiled…


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **

**It is said that 'patience is its own reward'. Needless to say, this chapter is for ALL of you that follow me, but it is also a little gift to one fan in particular. A fan that I like to think of as a friend and one of my biggest supporters. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE:):) and I do so appreciate your encouragement and support! To all of you that read and follow my stories, I send hugs, good thoughts and GIGANTIC thanks! You all are the GREATEST!:):).**

**Update October/2016...Life is complicated and so is this story, but yes, I'm still working on it!:)**

**CHAPTER 2**

I ended my call with Walt and turned to smile at Henry, a little red-faced, but I don't think he'd heard our conversation. Still, just talking to Walt made me…warm and it showed. Henry might not have heard the conversation, but he got the gist of it just by looking at me. I couldn't hide the goofy grin.

"I take it Walt is on his way home?"

"Yeah, he is! I was kinda hoping, but didn't really expect it. He just caught me a little off-guard is all."

Right, Vic, babble away like a giddy teenager! Keep hugging your cell phone to your chest like some love-struck groupie! How mature of you to fall under the spell of a day you always used to scoff at. Just because it was Valentine's Day, just because Walt was coming home on this particular day. Just because the mere sound of his voice made you weak. Just because the thought of kissing him, touching him made you breathless…Get a grip, girl! Henry didn't want to see you melt in to a puddle at his feet.

"Uh…um, are we done here? Is everything ready? I know we weren't expecting this…"and I held my cell phone up, indicating Walt's surprising call.

"Everything is fine, Vic. No need to worry." Henry smiled softly at me, telling me without words that he understood my silly, immature behaviour.

I loved all of Henry's smiles and the way he gave them so freely. I just had to go and give him a little peck on the cheek for being his accepting, forgiving self.

He always blushed whenever I gave in to that impulse. That's what made it so much fun to do. Henry liked to think he had the stoic look of a drug-store Indian, but more times than not, his emotions were plain to see on his face.

He hugged me quickly and then held me at arm's length, looking down at me.

"I am so happy that Walt will be here with you on your first Valentine's Day together. It is as it should be and so is his little surprise."

"Do you think he'll like it, Henry? I mean, it's hardly romantic…"

"But necessary. You are the practical one in this relationship, Vic. Walt could use some of that as he is overly romantic. If it were up to him, you would survive on love, which, while a nice thought, is not always conducive to getting things done."

"I guess that depends on what you want done," I just had to throw out there. We both laughed.

Walt - a romantic. I'd always known it, maybe not right from the start, but as time had gone on and I'd spent more of it with him, it became clear what a softie he really was. That was the amazing thing about Walt; you had to get to know him to REALLY know him. And he had to get to know you, before he'd let you in, and boy, did he ever take a long time getting to know someone! I thought I was going to be old grey and half dead before he ever said he loved me...

Of course, he'd been the first one to say it. At the time, it had been the LAST thing I'd wanted to hear from him...

I moved away from Henry, my smile fading a bit.

"Do you think we can ever really make up for the mistakes we've made, Henry?" I asked softly, absently fiddling with the other present I'd made with my own klutzy hands for Walt. For us.

"I BELIEVE that if the intention to right our wrongs is strong in our hearts, then we can overcome anything. We can change everything."

He came up behind me, rested his warm hands on my shoulders.

"All the bad times are behind you, Vic. You gave them up to the Fire and The Great Spirit. _Ma'heo'o_ saw your sacrifice and smiled down upon you…and Walt. Both of you are in Harmony, the Thunder and the Lightning are together now, as they were meant to be, as they always will be. There is no Thunder without Lightning and so there is no Walt without you and no you without Walt. You two are The Storm. The calm before it and the calm after it. It is how you will live your life, together. You were meant to BE."

I felt silly tears sting my eyes at Henry's words. I tried to hold them back, but they betrayed me and fell from my eyes anyway. Damn, fucking emotions! It seemed that I was always near to tears these days. I dashed them away and turned to face Henry, the present held absently in my hands.

"You spout such stupid shit, Henry! If you're so wise and wonderful, why are you here instead of being out with YOUR true love?"

Don't know why I said that when Henry had painted such a beautiful picture of me and Walt with his soothing words. I honestly did feel that Walt and I were thunder and lightning, all wrapped up in each other. The first time I'd ever heard him speak, I heard the Thunder and he surely had seen my Lightning. He's seen a lot of it over the years.

"I am here because you needed my help. You should have asked for it in the first place, Vic. I cannot deny you anything. You are my brother's woman, his _he'e._ When he cannot be here for you, then it becomes my job to be here and my pleasure."

Lucky for me, Henry didn't seem to be offended by my lame attempt to lighten the mood. Lucky for him that I didn't take his words as being sexist! He just carried on being profound. Wise and wonderful. Simply Henry, and bound and determined it seemed to teach me acceptance and some Cheyenne words as well. So far, I was pretty useless at it, mostly with the language, that is, but he always kept trying and so did I, with both things. I saw a glint in his eyes and the beginning of a smile tugged at his lips before he spoke again.

"All that being said, helping you is not the only reason I am here. I am having some difficulty determining which one of my current lady friends IS my true love."

"You are such a fuckin' player, Henry!" I laughed, letting go of the present with one hand to smack him in the chest; my signature move.

"When are you EVER going to settle down with ONE woman?"

"Perhaps when the right one comes along?" and then he laughed, too.

I loved seeing and hearing Henry laugh. His whole face lit up, his eyes sparkled. His laugh was infectious. It was almost as good as hearing and seeing Walt laugh, REALLY laugh. In Walt's case, it was a rare and beautiful gift that he shared only with the ones he loved. With Henry, it was just who he was; free and at peace with his world.

"I'd like to see you with a woman of your own, Henry." I was back to being serious.

"One day, maybe. Maybe not. I am open to the possibility, but not living for it. _Na'pe'vetano_, I am happy with the way things are, Vic…and you…You are happy, too, despite your tears."

I should've known he'd seen them! That soft smile again. Those deep, dark eyes…

I looked down quickly a little embarrassed, AGAIN, trying to find a way to tell him just how happy I was. Instead, I found myself choking up, both hands back to fiddling with the delicate thing in their grasp. Damnit! What the hell was wrong with me?

Henry's hands found my own.

"Real happiness can be a bit overwhelming," he said softly. He took the present from my hands and held it up, examined it.

"I believe you will have little need of this. I do not foresee any bad dreams in your future or Walt's…"

"It's a stupid present, isn't it? I should've just bought him a new knife or something!"

"No, Vic. That is not what I meant. This Is an exquisite dreamcatcher and you made it with your own hands. Walt will love it."

"You helped, Henry!"

"I simply told you the story of the dreamcatcher. You are the one that collected the feathers, the beads, all the little things that went in to this to make it uniquely yours and Walt's. YOU are the Creator of this beautiful thing. I simply meant that I do not think there will be many bad dreams for it to catch."

"There's always bad spirits roaming around, though, or so _you_ say!"

"They are out there, never doubt it. It is always best to be prepared, but as you created this, so will you and Walt create the world you want to live in. The world where you both belong. Moving in here with him was a good first step."

I blushed. I actually blushed when he brought that up. I looked around the cabin, feeling as I had so many other times, that this place really was my home. Through his honesty with me, Walt had excised Martha's ghost. This poor old cabin had been only half done for so long, but after that night, EVERYTHING changed. Walt actually got around to finishing the kitchen so now the cupboards had doors on them, and he had a plan for putting some real stairs and railings on the front porch! Too cold in the winter months to actually do the work, but he kept himself busy with his drawings, done in clean, crisp lines, so like his writing. He kept saying he was going to put a proper shower in, but work and the fact that he'd actually managed to put in a 'guest' bathroom of sorts where the washer and dryer were, kept getting in the way. I'd helped him with that, Henry, too. Much nicer for guests to use the bathroom without going through the bedroom

Slowly but surely, the place was being transformed even if most of it was just on paper for now. Every step of the way, he asked my opinion. We were going to make this place OUR home. No more ghosts. No more holding back. No more secrets between us. Nothing but me and him and the connection that had always been there. The connection that Henry said would always be there. The connection that I felt so strongly, no matter where he was, the way I was feeling it now.

The last step, in Walt's mind, was for me to move in. My house, which I'd rented out after the divorce had finally sold. The lease on the apartment I'd moved into was almost up and after everything we'd gone through, what was the point of being apart? Walt's mind and my mind had been totally in synch on this idea! We'd had it all planned out and then Montana had called. I'd stuck to the plan. Just one thing I HAD to do, though

The very last step in MY mind was to finish that damn shower and that's what I'd set about doing. Had hired a contractor to do the job, but the job he'd done was so totally wrong.. I'd called Henry to help me fix it up, make it less modern and more rustic. Since it was done on time, it was one of my presents to Walt, for Valentine's Day. Yeah, I sucked at 'romantic', almost as much as I sucked at learning Henry's language, but I thought Walt would enjoy having one thing crossed off his 'to-do' list. At least, I hoped so.

There was one redeeming little present I had for Walt, though. It was safely tucked away in a dresser drawer. Henry didn't know about it. Didn't need his opinion on it. According to Walt, when it came to ALL things sexy, I was da bomb! Yeah, like he wasn't?

I didn't think that Walt would ever get used to thinking of himself that way, but I did my best to keep reminding him, which was so much fun. At least I had one thing for him that I KNEW he'd enjoy. We both would.

That and a nice supper. Better get moving on it! Walt would make it in under two. That didn't give me much time!

"Henry, thanks so much for helping me with everything, even this." I held up the dreamcatcher. I couldn't believe I'd made it. It was beautiful. Yeah, hard to believe I could make something so delicate and not screw it up, but maybe there was hope for me.

"You're staying for supper, right?" I was a little hesitant about that, what with Walt on his way. Still, it had been the plan. After all his help, I'd felt Henry deserved to have someone else make him a meal for a change. "I'm sure Walt would like to see you…"

"I had been wondering how to break this to you. If Walt were not on his way back, I would definitely stay for dinner, but since he is... Well, there is a certain someone and a certain somewhere else I could be." Sweet, Henry was blushing again!

"You dog, you!" Again with the chest slap but this time, it was more out of relief. He laughed. "You were going to ditch me anyway?"

"I was going to stay, honestly, but since Walt is coming home…" he shrugged. " Besides, he will only be interested in seeing you! He would be somewhat disappointed to find me here and then he would be awkward…"

"And then he'd stammer and yeah, that would kind of ruin the mood, wouldn't it?"

We both laughed

"Alright, Henry, go see your mystery woman".

"I will. Enjoy your evening, Vic. Tell Walt I will see him later in the week. Your man, _hetane, _is coming home to you."

He bent slightly to give me a kiss on the cheek. I grabbed on to him, to hug him to me. Again, those damn tears filled my eyes, spilled over on to the collar of his shirt.

"I don't know what's wrong with me these days, Henry." I gave a little laugh and stepped away from him. "Must just be tired from all the working and moving, I guess…"

"_Me'esevotse_," Henry replied with that little smile of his, knowing he'd said something I didn't understand at all. I'd never heard that particular word/phrase before!

"Is that your Cheyenne way of telling me I should get some sleep?" I teased.

"I was simply telling you that you better get some sleep while you _can_. You and Walt both."

No, that's NOT what he'd SAID. I could tell by the gleam in his eye. That word,'me'esov-whatever' had more to do with NOT sleeping. I think he'd just pulled a fast one on me, but I wasn't one hundred percent sure. He was definitely enjoying himself, though and taking advantage of my not understanding. Didn't quite know how I felt about that. Sometimes, Henry was just too damn' mystical' for me!

But I loved him anyway. I'd learned to embrace that gushy word in the last little while. It was a good word once you actually convinced yourself that saying it wouldn't totally end your world or cause you to end someone else's. Oh, the things I'd learned in this strange new year!

"Oh, we'll get some sleep, eventually!" I teased, just in case Henry had been talking about what Walt and I were going to do the moment he walked through the door. Okay, maybe supper first and then, y'know…It had been a long week without him.

"I hope so, for your sake." He turned up the collar on his jacket and moved to the door.

I threw on a sweater and stepped out on to the front porch with him. The last few weeks had been strangely warm, but there was a real chill in the air now. The sun was just going down. The sky was on fire. Every shade of red imaginable streaked across the sky.

"It's so beautiful," I whispered in awe.

"Yes, it most certainly is," Henry agreed quietly, "but there is a storm coming…"

"Can you smell it, feel it?" I asked, preparing myself to be amazed by more of that mystical intuition of his.

"No. I can see it in those dark clouds moving in!" He chuckled. I groaned.

Oh, yeah, he could be as funny as Walt sometimes!

Walt. He was coming home and I was here waiting for him. There was no better feeling in the world, not yet, anyway. Couldn't stop thinking about how good it was going to feel to put my arms around him, rest my head on his chest and all that would come after that first hug…

"Henry, thank you. _Nia'ish. _Did I say that right?" He took one of my hands.

"You did and you are most welcome. Get inside now before you get cold." He gave my hand a squeeze.

"Walt should be ahead of the storm and here before you know it. I stacked more firewood at the end of the porch, enough to last the night, so go on in, get ready, test out the new shower or the tub if you prefer and do not worry about anything, Vic. He will adore your presents, just as he adores you."

This time, I managed to hold the tears back. Even managed to smile. I gave Henry's hand a tight squeeze and then he was going down the log-rounds that passed for stairs, getting in his truck and pulling away.

I spent a few more moments lost in the sunset, thinking it was one of the most beautiful ones I'd seen. Wondered if Walt was seeing it too. Thinking that he probably was started the tears again.

"Fucking Valentine's Day" I muttered with a slight smile, knowing this was going to be the best one of my life.

It had to be the day, the thinking about it while I'd worked on Walt's presents, the missing him, his phone call telling me he was on his way to the place where his heart was. Those seemed like good excuses for me being such a blubbering wuss lately. Good enough, anyway.

If I got my ass in gear, maybe instead of a quick shower, I'd be able to lounge in the new 'old' claw foot tub Henry had found for me; that would be nice. Sprinkle some sweet smelling oil in the water, relax a little. Dream about the things I wanted to do to Walt between the fresh new sheets I'd bought. That thought, strangely enough, made me think of the other little touches I'd added to the place.

New cushions for the couch, new curtains on the window, a nice mat in front of the door. Those and a few more little extras that Cady had helped me with. I'd picked most of the things out myself and she'd helped me carry them to the truck. We'd ended up having lunch and a good day together. The two of us actually getting along was also another wonderful gift the new year had blessed me with.

'Blessed me with'? Flowery vocabulary had never been my style, nor the flowery feelings that went along with it. Then again, though, I'd never been so in love with the life I'd been living as I was now…

With one last look at the sunset, I turned and went back inside to get everything ready. I had less than two hours and a lot of things to do.

Walt was coming home. I felt my grin turn in to a big old smile. Probably a dopey smile. Whatever. Walt was coming home.

To me…


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**

Chapter 3, surprisingly fast for me, I know:) Don't know about all of you, but I wanted to explore Walt's version of that first meeting between him and Vic that I posted as chapter 2 in** Happy New Year, Vic. **Wanted to find out what his thoughts on it were, how it affected him and where he was coming from on that Fateful day, so here it is. Do hope you'll enjoy it as much as I enjoy getting in to Walt's complex mind:). I just** LOVE **this man's thoughts! LOL. Seriously, what's not to love?

**Update October/2016**...working on this, I swear! Thanks for your patience. Think of this as a bottle of wine - so much better with time:)

**Chapter 3**

Static.

I hate static. Unfortunately for me, that seemed to be all that the radio was capable of putting out on this particular stretch of highway. It was an annoying accompaniment to the sound of my windshield wipers.

I switched off the radio.

Left alone with the slap, slap, slap of the wipers was almost worse. I thought I'd be able to stay ahead of the storm and I had until the highway took a decided turn to the west. Now, I was forced to slow down considerably. The road was covered in close to a foot of snow. Visibility was almost nil. The sun had set. Night had fallen and the snow had followed it and it was still coming down

Big flakes, falling fast and hard. I felt like I was encased in one of those snow globes that had fascinated Cady when she was a child. I also felt a little frustrated.

All I wanted to do was get home to Vic. All I wanted to feel was her arms around me, her softness against me. All I wanted to do was kiss her, sweep her up in my arms and carry her off to my bed…our bed, now…and love her until the morning came along. All I wanted to do was wake up beside her and know that she was never going to leave me again…

The present in my pocket was a little insurance that staying with me would be a sure thing.

Despite the tension I was feeling driving through this storm, I had to smile at the imagined look on Vic's face when I gave her my gift. I really wasn't sure if she was going to hit me or hug me when she opened it. That unpredictability as to her reaction thrilled me and made me that much more anxious to get home to her, so I could find out which way it was going to go. Life with Vic was never going to be dull. It never had been…

Maybe it was the hypnotizing effect of the snow before me or the constant, rhythmic sound of the wipers. It was probably a combination of both that sent me back to the past. To the first time I'd met Victoria Moretti…

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Don't know why I'd chosen that particular day to decide to go in to the office. Truth be told, it really hadn't been anything as definite as a decision on my part. The constant messages left by my staff on my machine, the occasional one from Henry, wondering if I was still alive, the never-ending sound of Martha's voice preceding each one had made me a little angry. I was just going to have to put in an appearance at the office. Henry? He could wait. He knew where to find me but being the smart man he was, he stayed away. He knew me.

Nope, going to the office that day had been far from a decision. It had just been the only way I could think of to make the constant hounding stop. A way to make everyone just leave me the hell alone. For a while, anyway…

I could've just unplugged the phone, but that seemed a little too drastic at the time. I could've changed the message Martha had recorded so long ago with one of my own, but hearing her voice, constantly reminding me of her, seemed a good way to keep me firmly in that masochistic, guilt-ridden state I was wallowing in.

That particular day, for whatever reason, I'd finally had my limit of guilt and remorse, at least for a time. Maybe I'd just needed a change of scenery in which to brood…

The surprise on everyone's face and the smirk Branch couldn't quite hide were hard to miss as I entered the office. I ignored them all and stalked in to my own inner sanctum, closing the door on their voices, their questions, their inquiring eyes.

My desk top was plastered with bright coloured post-it notes from Ruby. I barely glanced at them. Along with the notes was a stack of files I could care less about. I dropped myself down in my chair and asked myself why I'd decided to come in when all I wanted to do was leave again. I certainly wasn't here to work…

I glanced around the room. The blinds were closed. The air was stale. The whole place felt like some kind of mausoleum. Sure I'd been in and out in that past year, but never stayed long enough to leave any part of myself here. At the time, I didn't have any of myself to leave anywhere…

"_**Walt, what I did, I'm sorry about it. I know how it makes you feel, but I didn't mean to hurt you. I only wanted to do what was best for Cady and this IS what's best, can't you see that?"**_

"_**I'm her father! I'll take care of her! It's my job and my right, Martha! You say you know how I feel, but you don't! You took something away from me! What you did, it makes me feel useless, worthless and empty inside!**_"

Sitting at my desk, I felt just as empty as I had that day and just as useless and worthless . What Martha had done back then was long over. Cady was all grown up, had gone to law school as we'd planned, even though the plan hadn't gone the way I thought it would and Martha was gone, but the secrets and the lies lingered on, left behind to haunt me.

That was probably the better word for how I was feeling. For how I'd been feeling for such a long, long time. Haunted…

It didn't help that I was sitting here in the gloom.

With a heavy sigh, I got up and opened the blinds. Bright July sunshine filled the room. It dispelled the shadows, but didn't do much to lighten my mood. I glanced down at the street, watching the world go on all around me, feeling disconnected from it all, when once upon a time I'd been so connected.

People going about their business. I knew them all. Chase Richards and Janine Hawkins sitting on the park bench, kissing. Old man Carver making his way slowly down the sidewalk with his cane. Sarah Mathers, the librarian, window shopping as she strolled along. This was my town, the place I'd been born and raised and these were my people, the ones I'd sworn to protect and serve, the ones that had elected me to do so and boy, I was giving them a raw deal, but I just couldn't help it. I honestly didn't care, not now…and I wasn't sure if I ever would again.

I was just turning away when I caught sight of a young girl…no a young woman running down the street. Not on the sidewalk, but right on the street. I didn't recognize her at all. Someone new in town…

I watched her for a minute as she approached. This was no casual summer jogger. She looked intense, like she might just be training for a marathon. She'd caught my eye for a moment but then, y'know what, so what? Probably just some tourist anyway.

I went back to my desk. Sat back down again. Fiddled with my pens. Noticed a black and white folder placed directly in front of me. Obviously, Ruby had left it right there so I wouldn't miss it on the off- chance I'd drop in. Ruby never gave up on me no matter what I did. Never had and probably never would!

For her sake, I pulled the folder closer and opened it. Official letterhead met my eyes. For a moment, my heart skipped a beat. Just caught 'Police Department' on the logo, but no, it wasn't from Denver. It was from Philadelphia. My heart calmed down.

_To whom it may concern,_

_This is my letter of recommendation, along with the official file containing all pertinent information, citations and qualifications of Officer Victoria Moretti, late of the 5th Precinct, Philadelphia Police Department…_

Well, isn't this nice? I thought sarcastically. Why would I want to read on about Officer Victoria Moretti? Who the hell was she anyway?

I was just moving on to the second paragraph, blah, blah, blah, when I heard the main door to the front office slam shut. The windows in my own office rattled; someone was pissed! To my surprise, I heard a woman's voice, a woman's very angry voice. She was going on and on about 'four times', moving to 'four fucking times' in the space of a heartbeat. There weren't too many women in Durant who swore like that, at least not in public. I listened harder although it didn't take much of an effort to hear what she was saying.

"You see something funny, asshole?"

Yup, definitely not a voice I recognized.

I thought about just sitting there, hiding out in my office. Let Branch and Ferg handle the situation; that's what they got paid to do and it sounded like they were about to really earn their money, dealing with this crazy woman. Then I heard her say 'you're not the one I'm looking for' and I knew that whoever she was, she was here to see me. Of all the days to come in to the office…

I got up. Did a quick survey of my attire. I'd dressed with little concern for my appearance, simply grabbing what was close to hand. I really should have ditched the shirt I was wearing years ago or at the very least, washed it at some point in the last few weeks and my jeans should have joined them in the wash as well, but y'know, really, who the hell cared? Not me.

Most days I didn't even bother to get dressed. Just wandered around the cabin in my pajama bottoms. Sat on the couch or the front porch drinking beer and letting the world go by without me. One more year and it would be election time and the town could find themselves a new Sheriff, one who gave a damn because I certainly didn't any more. I just wanted out. Wanted to just fade away like the sunsets I spent most days watching…

Apparently, though, the Universe had other plans for me today. Best go deal with the problem so I could get back to not dealing at all.

"You can tell that stupid prick boss of yours that I want my resume back! You can also tell him that as far as I'm concerned, HE IS THE BIGGEST ASSHOLE TO EVER WALK THE FACE OF THE GODDAMNED EARTH! AND WHILE YOU'RE AT IT, YOU CAN TELL HIM, FROM ME, TO GO FUCK HIMSELF SIX WAYS TO SUNDAY!"

That's what I heard when I opened my office door. Just who the hell was this lunatic? I came around the corner. Ferg was at his desk, eyes on the action around Ruby out in the reception area. Branch was blocking my view of our visitor, but Ruby was looking at me with a combination of relief, trepidation and apparent dismay at my appearance.

Maybe I should've done up my shirt, but did it really matter? I hadn't even had a shower or brushed my hair. Had simply smoothed it in to place, put my hat on and headed out. I hadn't been expecting company and even if I had, so what? Take me or leave me….and I cared more for the latter than the former. Why try to hide it?

"What's the problem here, Ruby?"

"I was trying to find that out, Walt," Branch answered instead. Him and his smug little voice.

He'd probably take great delight in knowing that he was the main reason I kept myself away from the office. Couldn't stand to be around him, never had liked the little prick. He and Cady were of an age, had gone to school together, had started to get a little too chummy in their teens for my liking. It had been the source of many an argument between Martha and I and eventually between me and Cady and why did I hate the little creep so much?

It was as simple as Martha had said; he was Barlow Connalley's son. It was totally unfair of me, I knew that, which was probably the only reason I'd hired him on as a deputy when his uncle Lucian had asked me to. Lucian, I liked. I respected him. He'd been a good Sheriff, my mentor and he'd probably been hoping I'd be the same to Branch…

…but I despised Barlow and I saw way too much of him in Branch. I could never get past that, no matter how hard I tried. No matter how hard Branch tried. I could almost admit he was a good cop, an excellent investigator, but he carried around Barlow's arrogance. It shone brighter than the gold star pinned to his puffed out chest and more times than not, I just wanted to wipe the arrogance off his face with a good old backhand, wanted to knock him on his ass as I saw his father in those blue eyes of his. And just like Barlow, he thought he was better than me. That was definitely another reason for my strong dislike of him…

Today, though, I just shouldered him aside with distaste. Just couldn't help myself. Yeah, I was a stupid prick, just as this woman with her back to me had said. Might as well think of me that way because that's what I'd become

"Uh, Victoria Moretti is here to see you," Ruby informed me, sounding very unsure of herself. Sounding flustered. So, this little thing with her back to me was Victoria Moretti, the cop from Philly.

I ran my gaze over her, from the messy blonde braid that hung down past her shoulders, the indent of her waistline, the slight curve of her hips, the length and strength of her lean legs, the mismatched socks above the backs of her sneakers. She looked about as well dressed as I was. At least I didn't have a hole in the ass of my jeans, not that I knew of anyway. She was wearing white underwear by the look of it. Hardly dressed for an interview…and it dawned on me that this was the young woman I'd seen running down the street.

"I was actually just looking at your resume, Ms. Moretti…" Felt like I had to say something! The coincidence between me just having been doing that and her showing up here was hard to ignore. This would be the time when Henry would remind me that there was no such thing as coincidence, if he'd been there to do so, and I might have almost believed him.

Silence, deep and heavy, like dark clouds suddenly rolling in on a clear summer day. You knew a storm was coming and it was going to be a bad one. You took cover and waited for the lightning to strike once you were assured of your own safety.

That's how it felt before Victoria Moretti turned to face me.

Fists planted firmly on slender hips, offensive stance, strong, lean legs braced. Chest out, making herself appear bigger than she was. Also pulling the thin cotton fabric of her tank top tightly across her breasts, giving me an eye-full of her not insignificant assets. A prick I was, but apparently, I was still a man somewhere inside and I couldn't help but notice what she had to offer, especially when said tank top was wet with sweat and clung to her the way it did. A man would have to be blind not to notice this woman!

That same sweat glistened on her face as she tilted her chin up to me. She had a heart-shaped face, although her slightly rounded chin gave it a hint of softness. Wide mouth, full lips pressed together defiantly. High, prominent cheekbones, a straight, elegant nose, delicate, classically arched eyebrows, a high forehead which was supposed to indicate intelligence, so it was said. That may have been true, but her real intelligence lay in her eyes, along with a whole lot of attitude.

The biggest, deepest, strangest coloured eyes I'd ever looked in to. One minute, a light tawny colour as she surveyed me, the next, a deep, dark brown, like milk chocolate, as she met my gaze. She reminded me of one of those small dogs, too fearless to know it shouldn't even think of taking on something like a bull-mastiff, but doing it anyway.

While I was sizing her up, she was doing the same to me. We faced each other like a couple of gunslingers in a showdown on a dusty street, the storm gathering around us. Looking at her made me feel like I was looking at my own reflection, as though we were mirror-images of each other, the only difference being our gender, showing in our complete opposite size.

I'd fallen in to my own stance, my 'thinking' stance, running a hand along my jaw, intrigued and slightly floored despite that apathy that had been my constant companion for so long now.

"About time, asshole," she muttered.

To my own surprise, I invited her to take this up in my office, moving at what felt like long last to open the gate and usher her ahead of me with her file.

Branch was in my way again. Could feel those smug eyes of his on me. Could almost hear those wheels turning in his head. Could see him checking out the woman who'd just passed by both of us. Could feel that almost predatory way he looked at her and I didn't like it, not one little bit!

"Don't you have something you should be workin' on there, Branch?" I suggested quietly.

Anyone who knew me knew that 'quiet' was me about to snap. Wouldn't say that Branch 'knew' me, but he obviously knew me enough to get moving. Being him, he just had to let out a smart-ass come-back.

Blah, blah, blah. That's right, Branch, I thought as I watched him park himself at his desk. You just sit there with your arrogance, your superiourity and disdain for me. When it came to disdain, the feeling was mutual, son. And you, Ferg, you just keep your head down like a good little boy. Don't even think of looking at me with those puppy-dog questioning eyes. Sooner than later, you'd both have a new boss. Until then, just stay the hell out of my way and as far from my sight as possible.

As soon as I was done with Ms. Moretti, I planned on going home and drinking myself in to oblivion. Just one more year and I'd be free. Could've stepped down today if I wanted to, but some perverse, twisted sense of honour and duty kept me hanging on. That, and the image of my father's eyes, the disappointment he'd never quite been able to hide from me all the more evident when I even thought about just walking away.

"_**You start something, you finish it, Walt! No two ways about THAT! You be a man. You do your duty. You keep your word and you make the best of it. In the end, all a man's left with is his honour**_."

And I tried, but over the years and since his death, I'd come to realize that his honour and sense of duty weren't the same as mine. Had never been, but still, I'd tried. To please him, to be the son he wanted me to be. To be the man he thought I should be. And just where the hell had all that trying gotten me?

To this day, this moment, this empty shell of a life. Washed up, worn out and beaten down way before my time. I never should have taken this job in the first place, but I had. There really hadn't been much choice at the time. Never should have stayed, but I did. Should just walk away right now, but I couldn't. Only one more year and my duty would be done.

Only one more year and I could prove to my father that I was capable of doing what needed doing. One more year and I could either pull up stakes and finally leave or drink myself to death. Either way, this farce of a life would be over and maybe, just maybe I'd find some peace…Doubted if I'd find it in Life, but hopefully in Death. It could come for me any time now. I was waiting…

…and so was Victoria Moretti.

Putting myself in to a beer-induced coma would have to stay on hold a little while longer. In the meantime, maybe I could give myself a caffeine- induced heart attack. It was surely worth a try. Ms. Moretti declined to join me in my efforts so I told her to wait for me in my office.

"Walter…" I felt Ruby's hand on my arm as I filled my mug; a great big one. Aside from my mother, she was the only other person to ever call me 'Walter'. And just like my mother, when she said my name it was always tinged with a bitter-sweet mix of something much like frustration and love.

"Go easy on her. She's not part of any of this. She's just a sweet girl, looking for a job. Be kind, be fair, be what you used to be once upon a time."

"Ruby," I started, meaning to warn her about telling me how to act, but she cut me off. Cut me off cold with a firm grip on my arm and more than a hint of anger in her voice.

"You have to snap out of this, Walter," she growled, keeping her voice low, just between us.

"You have to quit taking everything out on everyone else around you! Martha's dead, but you're not! Life goes on and you're still here, so get on with it! You've got a job to do and right now, your job is to find a new deputy to replace Harlow. We can't keep running this department short-handed! You've already scared off all the other applicants, so please…" and her voice softened. So did her grip.

"Please just talk to this girl. Listen to her and don't be an asshole for once!"

Ruby just swore! She NEVER swore!

I raised my eyebrows in surprise, finally turned to look down at her. The pleading, the worry and the anger mixed up with love in her eyes got to me. She reminded me so very much of my mother and I'd loved my mother, simply because she'd loved ME, no matter what. I supposed it helped that I'd been her only child, but still…

It was the same with Ruby. Pissed off at me she might be and rightly so, but even in her anger, she always let me see that she loved me. And if I loved her, which there wasn't a speck of doubt about, then I'd do as she asked, no matter how I might feel otherwise about it. She really wasn't asking much of me.

"I'll try…for you," was the best I could come to making a promise to her. The soft smile and the equally soft pat she gave me on my back were her way of letting me know she'd take that and be satisfied with it if I at least did that for her. Not delighted, but at least satisfied.

"I like that girl, Walter. Don't screw it up, okay? Something tells me you might just regret it if you do," and off she went to her desk, leaving me to ponder that last statement of hers. I regretted EVERYTHING, so what the hell was one more thing added to the pile? I shrugged and made my way to my office, the eyes of my deputies following me. I closed the door on them. They could both kiss my skinny ass. I'd deal with Victoria Moretti on my own.

And how I dealt with her was to ignore her.

I sat down at my desk. I pretended a rapt interest in her file. I wanted to leave her hanging, to see how she'd react. Silence was one of my best weapons and one of my best defenses. Unnerving people was a natural born talent of mine. My dad could've sworn to that; pretty sure I'd unnerved the hell out of him with it and defended myself pretty well when it came to him, too. Not that he was a mean man, just a hard one.

Unnerving Victoria Moretti proved a little tougher, though, but being engrossed in her file wasn't all pretense on my part either as I ran through her qualifications. Impressive, to say the least. Far too impressive to be working here, for me.

She sat there, looking around, her legs crossed, one foot swinging, appearing all casual and at ease, but I could feel the tension coming off her. I leaned back in my chair, the better to see her while I kept reading her file. I saw her take in everything. I was sure she hadn't missed a detail of my office. Then she saw the couch, draped in warm sunshine and I caught the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

She got up, went there. Threw herself down and proceeded to grab the book I'd left on the back of it. The Song of Myself it was called. That had been a while ago on another one of my pretty well useless visits to the office, but I still knew exactly where I'd left off. Watched her reading the words I knew by heart, watched her frown and turn the book over to check out the cover.

Truly unbidden, another passage came to my mind and I spoke the words out loud without even thinking about it.

"_Alone far in the wilds and mountains I hunt, wandering amazed at my own lightness and glee. In the late afternoon choosing a safe spot to pass the night, kindling a fire and broiling the fresh-kill'd game. Falling asleep on the gather'd leaves with my dog and gun by my side._"

I was THERE, up in the mountains, hunting and basking in the solitude of it all. I drifted off, wondering if I should rethink my plans post this meeting and instead of getting drunk, just head up in to the mountains to get lost. Huh. Maybe…

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the frown of puzzlement on her face, caught her checking the book cover again. Saw her sit up. I blinked myself back to reality; she must think I was insane!

"Didn't mean to interrupt you," was all I could think to say. She had looked rather comfortable on that couch.

"You actually read this stuff?" she asked, sounding a little amazed that I would find some comfort in the works of Walt Whitman. "You actually know this stuff?" She might even have been impressed; I couldn't quite tell if that was the case or if she was only wondering about my mental state.

"I know a lot of 'stuff'," I told her and went on to give her my take on the writings of Walt Whitman. Now, that was a strange turn of events. Talking about sex and breathing, referencing the passage she'd read and not the one I'd recited, with a woman I'd only just met. Yeah, by the look in her eyes, she was definitely thinking I belonged in the looney bin. Maybe I did, especially after starting THAT conversation. She tried to steer the whole thing back to her reason for being in here in my office.

"That's all nice and everything, but I'm here about a job if that's okay with you."

Huh. I was beginning to think she was here for other reasons. Totally insane, illogical and out of nowhere reasons. Things along the lines of Fate being responsible for our meeting this day in this way.

"Well, sometimes Life gives you more than you were looking for…or expecting."

She raised an eyebrow at my profound statement. She frowned, trying to figure it out. She wasn't feeling what I was feeling. She went to get up, probably to turn tail and run. I motioned her to stay and got up instead. Time to stop drifting and get on with this.

I ran down some of the highlights of her career, going over them with her. When it was clear that she'd made a big mistake leaving Philly behind her, she told me she had because of her husband and his transfer all the way out here. A husband? Yeah, nothing like an opposite sex complication to throw a person's life in to turmoil, to make them do something that might not be best for them. Yeah, I knew all about that kind of shit and I couldn't keep my opinion of it to myself when I responded to her.

"Huh. That's a hell of a sacrifice to make."

I'd gone on to give her reasons why I thought her working for me might not be such a great idea. I felt like it truly would be beneath someone of her experience and knowledge while at the same time it somewhat excited me to think of having someone around here that I could really trust to do the job without having to hold their hand or question their motives.

Ferg, well he was still young and learning. Branch…I didn't trust him to serve anything but his own interests and protect his own ass. Funny, I hadn't hesitated to leave the two of them alone this long so why was I thinking about it now?

Because this Victoria Moretti gave me the tiniest spark of hope. Perversely, I was doing my best to squash that hope at the same time. Having her around would definitely make my life easier, but it wouldn't be the life she was used to back in the big city and that worried me. If I took her on, would I only be counting the days until she quit?

I motioned for her to get up, come over to the map. Showed her what life here in Absaroka County was like, geographically speaking. While she stood beside me, as antsy as a race horse, I caught the scent of her sweat, the fragrance of her deodorant and her shampoo. It was a nice combination; earthy and warm. I tried to pretend I hadn't noticed and went on to explain the total chaos her life could become if she joined my little force.

"This isn't what you're used to, Victoria Moretti, trust me. I know how it works in the big city of Philadelphia."

She scoffed at that. Told me to call her Vic, which I found interesting and more suiting to her anyway.

To prove my point, I went on to tell her about Cady and my stupid notion of thinking I could move there and work for the PD. Went even further and told her how Cady had come home to take care of me. Went further still and told her about Martha's dying.

Where the words had come from, I didn't know. Why I chose to tell her all this, I couldn't figure out. It sure wasn't like me. Vic had passed on her sympathy and then used it as just another reason that I should hire here. To make things easier on me. Hadn't I just had that same thought?

The subject of kids had come up. My one, her none and the fact that she meant to keep it that way. I wasn't convinced about that. Women getting pregnant without intending to seemed to happen more times than not and she was young. Too young to be making that kind of decision, or at least that's what I thought. And then there was her husband and that was the clincher for me. After giving her my reasons why I thought this particular job would be hard on her marriage, I made my pronouncement.

"Victori- Uh, Vic, I just don't see that working for me is going to be a good thing for you or your marriage."

She saw it otherwise. She scootched forward in her chair, facing me across the desk where we'd both ended up for this conversation. She proceeded to tell me to stuff my 'thoughts' up my ass. She tried to drive the message home by sticking her finger in my face, telling me all the reasons why this job was just what she needed, to which I countered with the possibility of her getting pregnant, a valid concern I thought, despite her telling me kids weren't in her future.

I questioned her assertions that kids were never going to happen for her. There was a moment during her ranting response that something rang a little false to me. Not necessarily that she was lying to me, but just not telling me the whole truth. I wasn't about to delve much in to that. Figured I wouldn't get anywhere with it any way.

Instead, I just sat there looking her up and down again. I knew how I could get to her. I brought up her size or lack of it. Asked her how she'd take down someone without a gun, made a point of letting her know that hi-tech devices where not a part of police life in Absaroka County.

For an answer, she jumped to her feet, stormed to the door and yanked it open. Maybe I'd gone too far with her. Then I heard her call to 'Metro', her name for Branch. Told him to get in here. He came, all charm and swagger, basically looking like he wanted to hit on her, again. I wasn't sure about this, but then Vic told him to just come at her, like he wanted to shake her hand and I got where this was going…and did my best to keep myself from grinning.

When Branch looked to me for some kind of explanation I told him to just do as she asked. Vic explained again and Branch complied. Next thing, he was face down on the floor, she was on top of him, his arms pinned behind him while she had a knee dug in one of his kidneys, good and hard, and kept him there. Oh, god, it took all my control to keep from laughing out loud, especially when I replayed the look of surprise on Branch's face as he went ass over breakfast! I managed to hold it together while she glared up at me.

"Not bad," was all I could manage to get out.

Then Branch was on his feet, in Vic's face, yelling at her. She stood up to him. Met him head on and I knew if he didn't back off, she'd take him down again, just for the fun of it. Time to step in. I stopped playing with my whiskers, got to my feet and told Branch to settle down.

He was pissed at me. Told me that one day he'd be laughing at me. Yeah, wow, what a threat. I made up some bullshit excuse about needing a file to get him out of my office. He left, not swaggering anymore and I had to clamp my lips together to keep the laughter inside. Caught the gleam in Vic's eyes. She looked ready to laugh, too.

Instead, she folded her arms across her chest, cocked a hip and lifted her chin to me again.

"So?" she demanded to know.

"Not bad, impressive even," I told her. Asked her what she'd called Branch, she explained what 'metro' meant and then asked me if she was going to get the job or not.

I sat back down again, at my desk, looking at her and rubbing my whiskers. This time, I wasn't trying to hide my laughter. This time I really was lost in thought, very strange thoughts.

If I'd been born a woman, I'd be Victoria Moretti. If she'd been born a man, she'd be me. In our current incarnations, she made up for her lack of size with her mouth and the things that came out of it. I, on the other hand, having the size and demeanor, didn't need the mouth to make a point. All I had to do was stand there. All she had to do was open her mouth. One or the other, we both managed to scare off and intimidate anyone stupid enough to cross us. And then, hey, it all came down to fists and fury.

She had both as she'd already shown me and both of us, yeah, we could play dirty when we had to…Almost felt sorry for Branch. Almost. It had been hard, especially when I'd caught that smirk on Vic's face and knew she was as close to laughing out -loud as I was. She'd loved throwing that guy on his ass and I loved watching it happen. Yeah, call me a prick. At least I'd found someone who thought I was a funny one. And yeah, I'd set her up, but she hadn't disappointed me and it had been so enjoyable to see Branch go down!

Amazingly enough, our God-given attributes failed to work that way against each other. Strange thoughts to be having, especially without the mind altering effects of a few too many beers inside me, or the occasional joint, rolled from the stash Jamie had given me when Martha had been battling cancer.

Premium BC bud, all the way from Canada. Guaranteed to be the smoothest, most potent buzz a person could ever find and as stale as hell, but still had some kick left to it. Had spent an evening or two on the front porch since Martha's death and my quasi, self-imposed exile, stoned out of my tree, watching the sun go down and contemplating the hows and whys of it all. It had been so much better than the shit I'd tried in college, out on the West Coast.

Ran out of the stuff soon enough though and really hadn't felt the need to get more. It had been fun for a while, but not my thing. Strange thoughts indeed to be having completely straight and sober, but there they were, just the same. How the fine citizens of Absaroka County would talk if they knew that their Sheriff had partaken of that particular herb!

There was a lot about me that the citizens of this place knew nothing about, and never would, at least not from me. Cops were some of the biggest abusers of substances, second only to doctors and dentist. Lucky for me, my main drug was beer. Everyone knew it; nobody cared. After all, what was a cowboy without his beer?

Looking at Vic as she stood there on the other side of my desk, impatiently waiting for my verdict, I wondered if she'd ever been stoned a time or two. I got the feeling there wasn't much she hadn't tried in her young life. She had a look of experience and wildness about her that showed. A wildness that tugged at me, that whispered to the same thing in me. The thing I did my best to keep hidden and under control.

Unlike her, I found my wildness a source of shame, or had learned to see it as such. There didn't appear to be any kind of shame to this girl. One minute, she'd been lounging on my couch like she had every right to be there. The next, she'd been in my face, cussing me out and now, she looked ready to take me down if didn't give her the answer she wanted to hear.

If only I could ever be that open or shameless. Once upon a time, I'd wanted to be and out of nowhere came the thought that around her, I could be. If I could only find myself, I had the feeling she just might like that guy.

"I gotta think it over, "I drawled by way of answering her question.

I lied. I knew I was going to hire her. Maybe I'd just wanted to see her go ballistic, like she did. She told me to go fuck myself to which I reminded her that she'd left out the 'six ways to Sunday' on that one and then she'd called me an asshole and just to really rub it in that I'd heard her before I'd met her, I told her she'd forgotten a part of that, too. Damn, it was fun riling this girl up! Almost made me feel 'normal' for a moment. Told her I'd call her with my verdict tomorrow.

Then she did something totally unexpected. She backed down. She held out her hand for me to shake, which I did after getting to my feet. She told me it had been a pleasure to meet me and I wasn't quite sure how to take that. Told me to make sure I called her tomorrow…so she could tell me to go fuck myself over the phone. That did it; I ended up laughing out loud. Told her I'd be sure to do that, wouldn't want to miss it as she turned on her heel and sashayed out of my office, putting on that Philly accent, daring me to check out her legs and her ass, while making it impossible not to do just that.

I moved to the doorway. Leaned against it, arms crossed over my chest. I watched her make her apologies to Branch, kiss poor Ferg out of nowhere and hug Ruby. Then she stopped. Glanced back at me over her shoulder and seriously told me to stop looking at her ass. Then she was gone.

I think we were all a little taken aback by her exit, which had been as equally grand as her entrance. When all enquiring eyes turned to me, I went back in to my office. Closed the door. Went to the window and watched Vic run back down the street, away from the office. Yeah, I knew I'd be phoning her.

It truly did feel like Fate was leaving me no other choice. It took me a moment to realize I was grinning as I watched her disappear from my line of sight. As soon as I became aware of it, I stopped it. Moved away from the window and sat back down at my desk. Nothing got to me, right? Even if Vic Moretti did, I wasn't going to let it show…

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Yup, I'd been a mess back then, no doubt about it. Still had my moments, my days, but they were nothing like that had been. The trouble with being a thinker was that you never really forgot anything. You thought about it all so much that it became ingrained in your soul. But there were ways to cleanse even your soul. Total honesty between Vic and I and a fight the like of which we'd never had before had made for one hell of a scrub-brush, even if it had taken us four years to come to that point.

Four years of having that woman by my side. Four years of quick and deadly Lightning companioning my quiet and sometimes volatile Thunder. Being one hell of a storm together, no wonder it had taken us that long to come to the point we were at right now. What a pair we had been, doing our little dances solo around each other. So afraid of what would happen if we ever touched and came together.

We were Thunder and Lightning. Fire and Wind. Opposites that needed each other to be whole. Yin and Yang. When we'd finally, finally decided to dance together, it had been explosive, almost cataclysmic, the near death of both of us in every way possible and it had also been the traumatic, wonderful birthing of what we could be together. What _we_ were _meant_ to be… But what storm didn't come along without the calm before it and the calm after it? Through all of it, I knew I couldn't live without her. She knew she couldn't live without me. The storm between us and all its attendant befores and afters would never die and that was just fine with me.

Too bad the one I found myself in right now wouldn't just up and leave, though.

It was a bad one. One of Winter's last attempts to keep its claim on the land and remind us all that Spring was still a ways off. Not the best time to be waxing romantic while taking a stroll down memory lane.

I seated myself firmly in the here and now. Concentrated on what was before me instead of what was behind me. Tried to look past the daggers of snow and stay on what I hoped was the road ahead me. Wasn't sure if I was still in Montana or had crossed the border in to Wyoming. Couldn't see a damn thing except white, white and more white. That was, until I took the next corner…

…and then I saw a snow-plow coming right at me, strobing orange lights blinding me. Didn't have to see much more to know I was in big trouble. I had slowed down but was still driving too fast. So was he. Just knew this was not going to end well.

"Oh, shit…"


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note: **

**Time to get to know Tracy McKay a little better.**

** Personally, I like him:) Hope you will, too. I think he's kind of interesting and I'm hoping we'll get to 'see' more of him:). Read on, enjoy and never hesitate to let me know what YOU think! He's alright:)  
**

**Chapter 4**

So, I'm sitting here in this little bar I like to go to, just nursing a bourbon and listening to some honky-tonk band. They're not bad, but they're not great, either. Okay, so I make a better Sheriff than a critic; there are some that would argue with that, believe me, but I was off-duty now and not much of a fan of this particular band.

The bartender, Jack Colsen, was a friend of mine. At the moment, he was only interested in my drinking skills and my ability to pay. That's what I liked about Jack. He didn't need to know anything else…and so far, he seemed alright with my abilities on both counts, so we were good.

This girl comes up to the bar, leans over me to order a beer. Couldn't help looking at her. When I did, she saw my shiner and just as Walt had predicted, she became sympathy, concern and curiousity all mixed up in one darn good looking package.

I turned to face her more fully, so she could really get a good look at it. I heard Jack snicker. Maybe he had suddenly become interested in my ability to pick up girls. Yeah, well, he could just stand there polishing his endless supply of glasses for all I cared!

"Why would anyone want to hit a sweet guy like you?" she cooed. It was then that I noticed she was about six sheets in to the wind, bobbing and weaving like we'd been somehow transported to the deck of a ship riding stormy waters. Hey, beggars are not known for being choosey, alright? I flashed her a smile.

"I was in the process of arresting this certain someone and he took offense to it. He got one off, but I got in a few of my own. It's no big deal, really. Occupational hazard."

Had I really just said that? Wow, how lame! She seemed impressed with it, though…I think.

"Are you some kind of cop?" she asked. Okay, she slurred it. Jack snickered again.

"You might say I run this little town," I bragged. I actually felt my chest swelling. I blamed the booze for that little egomaniacal moment.

"Ooo, are YOU gonna arrest ME?"

She put her hands on my shoulders. Probably trying to steady herself, but in my mind, she was totally captivated by my movie-star good looks and urbane charm. Oh, wow, where the heck was my head at? I put my hands on her waist.

"Depends on what you let me charge you with."

"How about 'stupidity' for starters'?" Jack suggested. Miss Tipsy giggled.

"How about YOU just go back to pouring drinks, Jack?" I countered.

"How about you just quit dreamin', Trace? I'm of a mind to cut you off, pal."

I ignored him and concentrated on the sight in front of me.

"Why don't we move to a table and let this guy here bother someone else?"

She liked my suggestion. I could tell. She wrapped her arms around my neck, leaning in to me . _Falling_ in to me was probably more like it, but I'd take it.

"Now there's a crime if I've ever seen one," Jack piped up. "Drunk and delusional!"

Alright, enough was enough! I switched my attention to Jack, glaring up at all six feet of him. His dark blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, his big bushy beard, his thick eyebrows and the coldest pair of blue eyes on the planet, even when he smiled. He looked like a biker, but had actually been a cop in some former life, in some far-away place He was about ten years older than me. I think he was originally from Canada. Ottawa, maybe? Where he'd come from didn't matter. That he was in my face did. Why was he picking on me tonight?

"Hit the road, Jack" was the best I could come up with.

"Ya, real original there, Trace." He had a crazy-deep voice

He passed me the bottle.

"Better take this. You got a lot of catchin' up to do if you want to be on the same wavelength as Miss Congeniality here" and he indicated the dark haired, intoxicating and intoxicated beauty that I had my hands on.

Nice waist. Nice EVERYTHING! Decked out in dark jeans that clung to her legs, pink and white checked button down shirt absolutely form fitting…and with those buttons undone…wow, I was getting an eyeful! So maybe it wasn't going to be that kind of love at first sight but I sure was feeling 'interested'. She seemed a little transfixed with me, too…or maybe it was just the booze that was giving her that slightly cross-eyed, intent look.

I went to take the bottle from Jack. He held out his other hand, waiting. I handed over my car keys. Seemed like a fair trade to me.

With a heavy sigh, Jack leaned in to me.

"Don't think you want to get mixed up with her," he said for my ears only.

"Don't think it's any of your business," I countered.

"Yeah, well….don't say I didn't warn ya' squirt," and with that, he decided to finally pay attention to his other customers and moved on down the bar to do his job.

"What's your name, honey?" I asked when I was sure he was out of earshot, hoping this girl hadn't heard what Jack had called me; what he always called me.

With guys like him around I had to work twice as hard to be the Sheriff. Just because I wasn't tall or big didn't mean I wasn't tough. Didn't mean I didn't deserve the job. I'd been elected, after all…but then again, I'd been the only one willing to take on the incumbent, Sheriff Dwight Williams. Too old, too fat, too lazy. Too chummy with the 'good old boys'. I was young, tough, hard-working and a spark of hope or so the people thought. Still short, though…

"Valentine"

I heard it, but didn't comprehend it. Too busy being pissed at Jack

"What?" I asked stupidly, giving my head a little shake.

"My name," she giggled. "It's Valentine."

Yeah, riiight…

"Well, then this really is your lucky day, isn't it?"

Okay, feeling better. I stood up and slung my arm around her shoulders. Thankfully, I was taller than she was! I was just beginning to think that things might just go my way, easily, when a big dude came storming up to me. Of course it would be a big guy! Was there a man around here who wasn't pushing six feet?

"I been lookin' all over the place for you, Linda," he cried out, more angry at her than me.

At least he didn't seem mad at me. He seemed as drunk as she was. He just took the lovely Linda from my arm and gave me a slap on the back.

"Thanks for takin' care of her, amigo. She tends to wander when she's been drinkin'."

And just like that, I was left standing there with nothing but a bottle of JD in my hand and a baffled expression on my face. When I saw that cowboy coming at me, I was sure there was going to be a fight, but no….probably thought it would be too easy to fight me.

I watched him lead her out on to the dance floor and felt Jack watching me. Defeated, I plunked myself back on my bar stool.

"A bar ain't the place to meet the girl of your dreams, Trace."

I poured myself a shot and handed him back the bottle.

"Not for me, anyway, I guess."

'Valentine' had been whisked away by a tall guy. Story of my life. Seemed the tall guys always got the girls. Maybe if I'd been wearing my uniform, I might have met a more sober one, a single one. Women loved a guy in uniform.

Ahh, that still didn't change the fact that I basically was a sawed-off runt, a little squirt. It was probably a good thing Walt hadn't come with me. With him beside me I wouldn't even have gotten that first notice….and that lanky bugger didn't even need a uniform to make an impression. Couldn't imagine him in a uniform anyway. It would've made him look…_weird_. Out of place. Out of time. Go figure THAT one out!

I swirled the last of my drink around in its glass, thinking about Walt. That old son was the epitome of everything that had been wild about the West.

My first impression of him had been that he'd stepped in to my office straight from the pages of some old Louis L'Amour novel. I'd half expected a tumbleweed to come rolling in behind him. I'd been surprised that he hadn't actually ridden in on a horse, though his old Bronco, once I'd seen it, seemed to suit him just as well.

Older than me by a good fifteen years, but somehow ageless. His mere presence seemed to fill the room. Tall as all get-out, shoulders as broad as a barn door, he stood there in that old suede duster of his, his rifle slung casually over his shoulder, old but impressive hat on his head, shading his face. Couldn't hide those eyes, though…

Steely blue. Sharp. Taking in every detail with a quick glance around him. No one was going to get the drop on Walt Longmire, that was clear as day. No one moved. No one breathed. I'm sure I felt the glass and steel in the place contract. He'd stood there like an avenging gunslinger, squinting, making those lines around his eyes stand out. Other than that, there was no expression on his face, only a good day's growth of stubble. And then he'd asked for me, his voice like boulders rolling down a cliff.

I'd been a little nervous at first. Actually, scared as all hell, have to admit that, but somehow I found the nerve to step forward, introduce myself and extend my hand to him. He took it in that big one of his, kinda did a double take over my name, another thing I'd grown used to with time, and then he smiled. It was like the sun coming out after one hellacious storm. I felt everyone else relax around us, including the building itself. He had a nice, firm shake, no messing around. Just a simple 'pleased to meetcha' and then he was following me in to my office.

Walt didn't talk much, but he sure could be a funny guy when he wanted to. We were on a stake out one night and I asked him if he was ever afraid, of anything. I mean, this guy was always so loose, so relaxed looking, so calm. I watched him think about it for a moment and then said, 'Yeah, there's a couple of things that scare me…the IRS and one certain blonde Italian deputy I know. There's not much after those two things to be scared of." I had to laugh. So much for getting to the heart of this guy!

It had been pretty awesome hanging out with Walt. For starters, I was almost star-struck by him. I mean, this was the guy who single-handedly took down an anti-government terrorist in a duel, of all things. This was the guy who'd gone after an escaped psychopath, alone and on foot, in the middle of a freaking blizzard and freezing temperatures, while making his was up a mountain.

This was also the guy who'd taken on some detective from Denver, killed a crazy Cheyenne Dog Soldier and went grave-robbing to solve his wife's murder. I'd heard so many stories about this larger-than-life Sheriff from Absaroka County that I'd come to believe most of them were made up until I'd done some research and found they were all true.

When a drug ring began operating in MY county, I learned Walt had dealt with the same guys, arrested most of them, but the few that had gotten away had moved north, figuring they were safe in a different state.. We'd been trying to catch the big guys for months. Just couldn't seem to do it. In frustration, I'd gone to my superiours and brought up the idea of bringing Walt in.

It had been a bit of a hard sell at first, mostly due to pride, really. Not mine; theirs. Old boys. The fact that I'd only been the Sheriff for a little over a year and a half didn't help much, either. And I was young for a Sheriff. But I wasn't stupid and I knew how to talk, to persuade, and the times, they were a-changing. I knew I didn't have the expertise to handle the situation and I wasn't hung up about my ego, either. When I'd brought in the articles I had about Walt, they gave me the go-ahead. How could they refuse? This kind of activity was not good for business….

I just had to make sure it was MY collar and not his. When I mentioned it to Walt, he didn't even hesitate to agree. Personal glory wasn't a thing he was hung up about at all. He cared about justice. He didn't give a damn about credit. He was some kinda guy, I tell ya'.

He reminded me of Clint Eastwood in those old westerns my dad would haul out every weekend. Saturday nights, he would sit down in his chair in front of the TV and pop in some obscure old movie. John Wayne was another favourite of his. Sure, he made a great lawman, an excellent cowboy, but it was Clint Eastwood with his piercing blue gaze, his lack of expression everywhere else on his face and his taciturn attitude, that flitted through my head when I'd first met Walt.

So, what the hell was I doing sitting here in some bar, thinking about Walt? No wonder I was still single at the age of thirty-eight; it was like I had some serious bro-mance going on with the guy! Maybe I did. I certainly looked up to him, pun intended, but seriously, the guy was impressive in so many ways. After meeting and working with him, I'd come to the conclusion that if I could be anyone, I'd want to be Walt Longmire…

He'd taught me so much in the short time we'd spent together. Think before speaking…and think hard! But think fast. Weigh the pros and cons of a situation before reacting and once you reacted, go all in or just get the hell out of his way! Never show fear. Never hesitate once you'd made your decision, right or wrong.

"You're always runnin' with a fifty/fifty chance," he'd told me as we'd sat in my car outside a little seedy, run-down gas station on the edge of town.

"Work it out later, when you have time. Always know that when you carry a gun, chances are you're going to have to use it at some point. Perps won't hesitate to use what they've got against you, so don't you hesitate, either. Just make sure to make your shot count. Stay focused. Stay calm, no matter what your body's telling you to do to the contrary. Always works out better if you don't have to shoot someone, though…" and then he'd given me that smile of his, a quick lift of the corners of his mouth and then he'd clapped me on the shoulder. That had been a whole day's worth of words for him.

"Ready to go take a look inside, son?" He asked it like he was asking me if I wanted to go for a beer or something equally as harmless. He was relaxed, sounded calm, while I was sweating bullets! This was no domestic call, this wasn't dealing with a drunk and disorderly situation. This wasn't going after some guys for stealing cars or rustling cattle or horses. THIS was BIG CITY crime. The stuff that got cops killed more times than not. THIS involved drugs, hard drugs, lots of money and God knows what else! And it was just the two of us, doing a little reconnoitring, keeping to the shadows, watching from afar as it were….and now he wanted to go take a closer look? Suggesting it as casually as I might say 'hey, wanna get something to eat?'

Then I'd seen that while he might sound all relaxed, appeared that way, his eyes were sharp, staring at the gas station, and the wheels in his head were spinning. I knew he was weighing the situation. The two of us against how many? What were we going to walk in to and more importantly, how we were going to walk out again. What was it going to take to make sure we did? All that and so much more I could just hear going through his mind…and while it did, I'd felt the calmness coming off of him. Coming over me, despite my fear.

"Let's do this," I'd told him, sounding braver than I felt, but knowing I was in the best company there was for a situation like this.

And we had…and that's how I ended up with this shiner. The perp had hesitated for a moment, eyes flitting from me to Walt. He'd decided to go for the easier target, popping me one with his fist. Then Walt had popped him one and it was lights out for him. I'd taken down the other guy and when we drew our guns, the rest of them just backed down. It hadn't been quite that simple, but close enough. For a moment, I'd felt like Walt, telling those creeps with my eyes that I was done playing around. We had our guns drawn and if even one of them would've twitched, I meant to use mine. So much more to that arrest, but that's what I remembered the most.

No twitching, just hands in the air and the party was over. When I reached up to toggle the mic on my shoulder to call for the clean-up crew, Walt gave the thing that same look he had the first time he'd seen it. Oh, he knew what it was, knew what it did. He'd told me they didn't have 'those new-fangled things' in Absaroka, but his look told me that maybe that could change, depending on whether or not he could work them in to his budget. Things seemed tight in Absaroka.

I knew his feelings about cell phones, but it seemed he might be able to handle the more convenient portable radio. He honest to God had made me laugh sometimes! Made me hanker to take a trip down to Wyoming and check out his county, wanting to see him in his own element.

I also had to admit to a certain curiousity as to what kind of woman could tame a man like Walt Longmire. Could make him go all soft and smiley the way I'd see him when he'd been thinking of her after his phone call. 'Be careful what you wish for' he'd told me. Really, what did _that_ mean? She was probably as sweet as pie and kinda shy. Walt did have a strange sense of humour sometimes.

Still felt a slight flush of embarrassment about bringing up his marital status, but he did seem okay with it all. Wouldn't it be nice being him, going home to someone that he so obviously loved so much. Twice in his lifetime.

Oh, well…maybe one day it would happen for me. I'd settle for 'once'. I finished my drink. Threw a twenty on the bar. Held out my hands for my keys. Jack eyed me up and down. While I waited for him to make his decision as to my sobriety, a guy came right up to the bar, dusting snow off himself. Smiled at me.

"One hell of a storm out there," he informed me. Yeah, time to go home. Probably wouldn't be there long, anyway. I waggled my hand for the keys. Jack handed them over. With bad weather, there was bound to be an accident or ten and wow, happy Valentine's Day to me!

I was just doing up my coat when my cell phone rang. It was the station. And so it starts…

"Ya, Matt, what's up?"

"Just got a call from HP, Sheriff. There's been an accident just north of the Wyoming border. Truck versus snowplow.."

"Ahh, jeez!" Not even in my own county! Did they need help?

"Did Bighorn call out the FD?" It was standard operating procedure in most counties. The only trouble was, in Bighorn County, their FD passed for the paramedics we had here. EMT's were the best they had.

"Roger on that. They're on scene, but Trace…" and the hesitation in his voice made me cold all over.

"What is it, Matt?" I felt like I didn't really want to know.

"It's Walt Longmire…and it's not good. They're taking him to County Hospital right now."

I wasn't much for swearing, but as Matt's words sank in, I couldn't keep from spitting out one. It was either that or freeze up.

"Ahh, shit! I'm on my way!"

I kept telling myself Walt would be in good hands. EMT's would do what they could. They weren't paramedics, but County Hospital was one of the best emergency care facilities around; they had to be. They covered a lot of rural ground down there!

I jammed my phone back in my pocket. Jack reached across the bar and grabbed my arm.

"You okay, Tracy?" Such concern in those eyes of his. I almost couldn't take it.

"No, I'm not!"

Even before I finished speaking, I'd shaken his hand off and was on my way out the door, trying my best to keep a calm head, a clear mind, but that was easier said than done. All I could think about was how long it would take to get to County and what I'd find once I got there…


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note:**

**So, here comes, Chapter 5.**

** I should warn you, there's some swearing by someone other than Vic LOL...and some scenes that had me crying while I wrote them. Honestly, I cried...and kept on writing...so if there's the inevitable typos, I'm blaming it on my tears...Feel free to grab yourselves some Kleenex. Okay, then..Are you ready? Let's go see what's happening next. Poor Walt...  
**

**Chapter 5**

I…I…Oh, no! I can't…breathe! I can't…Don't touch me! DON'T!...Where am I? What's happening? Panic and Pain!

Lights. People. Voices. All mixed up. All around me! Touching me but I can't feel it. I know I'm screaming, but I can't hear myself. I'm trying to breathe, but I can't! Why can't I breathe? WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?

They're yelling at me, trying to hold me down. Four, five of them! Everything's spinning. I want to throw up, but I can't! I CAN'T BREATHE!

STOP TOUCHING ME! I NEED TO GET UP! I NEED TO GET HOME! I NEED TO SEE VIC! WHY CAN'T I BREATH?

NO! Not like this! Not gonna go out like this! I NEED to get home!

"He's been fighting us all the way here, Doc! We got him out of the truck and he came to like a wildcat! I had to give him a mild sedative just so I could get the oxygen mask on him but he kept pulling it away. Says on his license he's Walter Longmire, Sheriff over in Absaroka. Looks like he's got a big problem with his leg for sure and then, well…"

"Ya…I see….You did good, Dwight. You guys got him here You did what you could. We'll take it from here. Sheriff Longmire, you're in the hospital I'm Dr. Burgess. Everything's going to be okay, but you have to stop fighting and try to lie still…"

Lie still? HOW COULD I LIE STILL? I CAN'T BREATHE! And why is he looking at me like that? What's wrong?

"We're going to give you something for the pain now. It's going to make you drowsy and then we're going to see what we can do about fixing you up."

A face I don't know. I can see him, but everything's spinning. What the hell am I doing in the hospital? I'm not supposed to be here! I'm supposed to be with Vic! We're supposed to be together. We were MEANT to be together!

"Walter, listen to me! We're going to give you something for the pain. We're going to get you settled and then we'll be taking you to the O.R. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Did I understand? Barely. I felt like I was being crushed. I felt like I was drowning at the same time. I felt like dying just to make it all STOP!

But I couldn't. I wouldn't!

Of all the ways I'd ever pictured myself going down, THIS wasn't one of them! Chances were good I'd end up being shot. Chances were good I'd be alone when it happened, but if I could have my way of dying, I'd want to do it in Vic's arms. I'd want to do it peacefully. I'd want her face to be the last thing I saw in this life…Chances were she'd outlive me. It was all part of the natural order of things.

But this was no gunshot. This was not peaceful and these faces, swimming before my rolling eyes were not familiar to me. This had NOTHING to do with the natural order of things. THIS was an accident! One I was beginning to remember.

Flashing lights blinding me. Pulling to the right, hoping he'd pull to the left. Feeling the blade of the plow clip the Bullet's back end, sending the vehicle in to a wild spin. Feeling the force of the impact deep inside my body. Going with the flow, gently trying to correct what was out of control. Seeing the wall of trees come rushing towards me. Trying to stay calm, to hang on. If I could just keep it on the road…

Another violent impact, sending my chest in to the steering wheel despite my seatbelt. Being slammed against the side of the door. Glass breaking. Something driving in to my left leg, my thigh. Coming to a rest at last, stupidly being proud of myself for keeping the Bullet upright.

A quiet, so deep and all-encompassing settled down on me. Heard the engine sputter and then stop. Glass tinkling down. The tick of the engine, cooling. For a moment, everything was calm. And then the pain came. In my chest. My leg. I looked down and was stunned when I saw a tree branch buried deep in my thigh.

"Hey! Buddy, you okay?"

It was the snowplow driver. Had to be. He stuck his face in the broken side window, his eyes connecting with mine, briefly. The moment seemed to drag on forever. He was silhouetted against the orange strobing lights. Big heavy flakes of snow fell behind him, around him. On him. I felt them on my own face, their icy coldness melting as they mingled with the hot tears I couldn't control. Then he looked down.

I couldn't breathe. Seemed he couldn't, either. Saw his eyes go wide. Saw him search inside his coat with one hand, his eyes never leaving my leg. He absently pulled out a walkie. That's when I lost it. Felt like I was screaming my lungs out, but all I heard was a series of 'uhs'. He looked me in the eye, panic on his face.

"Oh, fuck!"

He fumbled with the button on his walkie.

"Dispatch! Charlie, pick the fuck UP!"

"Dispatch here. What's up, Cliff?"

"I…I've got an accident here…Guy's hurt bad! Get on that fuckin' horn and call the FD!"

"What's your twenty?"

"I don't know what the fuck my twenty is, Charlie! Just check the fuckin' GPS in my fuckin' truck! Get your feet off that fuckin' desk of yours and call the FD NOW!"

"Roger that, Cliff. FD's been notified. They're on the way."

"Tell them not to spare the fuckin' horses! And get another plow out here ahead of them if you can! This guy, he's not doing so good and this road needs to be fuckin' cleared so we can get him to a hospital!"

"Roger. Tom and Brett are on their way. Got your twenty. Closest receiving is County Hospital."

"FUCK!"

"Calm down, Cliff. We're doing all we can. HP's on their way, too. It's gonna be okay."

"Charlie, if you were seein' what I'm lookin' at, you wouldn't sound so fuckin' sure about THAT! This guy is pinned to his seat by a fuckin' tree branch and he ain't breathing so good. The goddamned thing's right through his leg! I think he's going in to shock!"

I thought I was, too. All through his conversation, this guy's eyes never left mine, except towards the end there, when he glanced down briefly at my leg again. The pain in my entire body was excruciating, like nothing I'd ever known before…The constant screaming in my head could only come out through my mouth in grunts and groans. I didn't have the air to make any better sounds. Wasn't sure there was even a sound for what I was feeling.

Then, I felt floaty. I felt disassociated from it all. I felt darkness coming over me, unable to fight it. My last coherent thoughts as he patted me on the shoulder and told me it was all going to be okay were that this guy was a bad liar and his language, it reminded me of Vic. SHE was my last thought before I passed out…

…and she was my thought now, as awareness returned, bringing the pain with it. With the pain came fear.

All these people, these strangers, manhandling me, sticking things in me, doing things to me! Cutting my clothes off, covering me with a blanket. The cold was so deep that nothing was going to help. So much noise around me. Beeping, clanging and the voices. Calm, low but hurried at the same time. And this doctor, looking down at me. His hand on my shoulder…

"We're going to do all we can for you, Walter."

I knew that look. I knew that tone. I'd held the hand of a dying man a time or two in my life. I'd lied to calm them down, to make their passing easier. To bring them peace. Without Vic, there would be no peace for me. I wasn't going anywhere without seeing her one last time.

I reached up, my arm feeling heavy and restricted. All kinds of tubes ran from it. I managed to grab the doctor's white coat.

"I…I need…"

"It's okay. Don't try to speak."

"I…need…VIC!" Forcing the words out took all of what little strength I had left. My hand fell away. I could only stare up at him, hoping he'd see the message in my eyes.

"It's okay, Walter. We're gonna help you."

I think the message I must have been giving him was 'good-bye'.

I lost what little focus I'd had. I turned inward. My life began to flash before my eyes. Images.

Cady – a new-born baby, cradled in my arms. A little girl dancing in the sunshine, a bouquet of wild flowers clutched in her pudgy hand.

A gawky, awkward pre-teen, getting ready for her first dance. Seeking my approval.

A radiant, confident young woman, going off to college, my heart pulled two ways as I watched her drive off towards better things. Coming home, a lawyer. Devastated by her mother's death. Seeking my comfort.

A truly beautiful woman, sitting on my front porch, waiting for me. Crying her heart out as she revealed the secret she'd come to know about her mother's death. Hating me for keeping her in the dark. Hating me and loving me as she pulled away in to the darkness, leaving me standing there, helpless to comfort her.

Cady – lying in a hospital bed, much as I was now. Fighting for her life. My little girl all over again. Knowing I had to set things right. Making my sacrifice under the scorching sun. Was there any sacrifice that would save me? And if there was, who would do it?

Henry – as a young boy. Punching me in the face at our first meeting. Friends after that. Running through the forests. Playing 'cowboys and Indians', reversing the roles to suit his sense of humour and justice.

Riding our horses full-out across the plains, fishing in the river, lying on the bank, watching the clouds and sharing our little boy dreams.

Growing older, together. Henry seeing something else in me that few people ever saw. Finding me worthy enough to share his world with. Taking me to his grandfather's tipi, hidden in the woods. Sitting side by side with him, listening to the stories of times long gone and times yet to come. Sharing the ways of his people with me. Including me completely in his life.

He had an older brother, but they were nothing alike. Henry strove to be more than what was expected of him. His brother was content to be a stereotype. End of that discussion. I had no brothers, no sisters. Just myself. A bit of a loner until I'd met Henry. Even as a young man, he'd been confidant in himself, so sure of himself. True in his beliefs. Accepting of others and so very patient. Even if he stood alone, he stood tall.

He wasn't without his doubts , though…or his demons. He shared all of those with me, as I shared mine with him. When we slit each other's palms and clasped hands, we shared our blood, sealed the bond that was between us in this life and had always been in countless lives past. He'd taught me so much. Had opened me up to a life so much better and bigger than the one I'd been living. He'd answered a call straight from my soul when he'd punched me in the face all those long years ago. He was a missing piece in the puzzle of my life…

We were truly Brothers. Beyond birth, before and beyond this life. Beyond Death itself.

Was he feeling my pain? Did he know what had happened to me? Such a wave of sadness came over me. I didn't want him to feel _this_ pain! I felt myself letting go of his hand…

Vic – the last piece to the puzzle. Everything to me, almost right from the day she'd stormed in to my office. Henry had completed me, but Vic? Vic had saved me even when I hadn't wanted to be saved. She'd answered the call from my heart, even when I was deaf to that call.

I pictured her that day up on Pronghorn Ridge. The day she'd tricked me in to getting my butt up there. A sunny March day, the light reflecting off the snow. Walking side by side up the slope, she'd been babbling on about sheep. Unable to help myself, I'd made a joke at her expense; the first humourous thing to come out of my mouth in over a year. She smiled up at me…and I smiled back. Truly smiled, for the first time in a long time. She wove a spell around me. That was my first acknowledgement of it and a true indication of just how helpless I was when it came to her and her magic.

Images of her just flew through my mind while I felt myself rise above my body on the bed.

Going after Mathias later that same day. Going after anyone that ever dared to threaten me. Always by my side, always ready to defend me, fight for me. Comfort me. Put up with me. Listen to me. Tell me where to go and how to get there. Taking more than her fair share of punches for me and finding a way to console me that one time I accidently punched her. Turning it in to something light, calling it the best thing that had happened to her all week.

Always there for me. Never asking for much in return. Keeping so much of herself to herself. Sharing what she had to only when she had to. We were so alike. I should've known that when she told me about being forced to leave, to have to pick between her job and her husband, that what she really wanted to hear was me asking her to stay.

But I'd blown it. Almost lost her. Did my best later to make it up to her. How we'd gone from that shaky moment to that night in my cabin was beyond me. How I ended up naked with her on the couch seemed almost a miracle, yet somehow pre-ordained. Taking that moment to gaze down at her in the fire-lit room had been heart-stopping.

She was so beautiful, so eager for me, so much a part of me already. I knew I was a part of her, too. Everything in us and about us was already deeply connected. All we were lacking was the physical joining of our separate bodies. The light in her eyes as she held her arms open to me was breathtaking and something I'd been longing to see my whole life.

I saw it now as I floated. No more pain. No more fear. Only an incredible sadness at leaving it all behind me.

Vic…Never want to leave you…

"That light is your life, Walt"

Henry's voice.

"Look at it. Hold on to it. Keep it in the front of your mind. Cling to it. Encourage it. Make it grow. DO NOT LET IT GO OUT!"

…and I tried. The light became a flame, burning steady. The flame became the essence of my being. I tried. Everything else around me became unimportant. The flamed flared and I felt hope surge through me. I held it steady. It danced before my eyes…

…and then they moved me. The flame sputtered as the pain came slamming back in to me. Only a small flicker of fire left now as I feel back in to my dying body.

"Walt. Walt!"

My eyes were rolling, unseeing. I heard shouts, not so calm now. Felt a hand grasp one of mine.

"WALT?"

I knew that voice. I knew that face above me as it swam in to focus.

Tracy. He looked so worried, so panicked.

I clutched his hand. He was my last hope.

"Vic…" barely a whisper. He bent down, closer. I had to find a way to get the words out.

"Call…my…office. Let Vic…know…"

I wanted to say 'let her know I love her' but the pain, the weight on my chest, that feeling of suffocating was too much. Tracy was pulled away and the bed was moving. The last thing I heard, my last bit of awareness was him calling out to me.

"I will, Walt! I swear! Walt! Walt?"

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"Walt! Walt? You there, son?"

It was a beautiful, hot summer day. Clear skies, bright sunshine, and here I was, sweltering in my patrol car, dreaming about going fishing instead of sitting behind cover at a speed-trap. My uniform shirt was wet under the arms, clinging to me. About the only thing to be thankful for was the new summer-weight hats the department had supplied us deputies with. Light and cool, nicely vented. _Something_ had to be in these dog days of summer. The radio going off startled me back to reality. I fumbled with the mic.

"Right here, Sheriff."

"What's your twenty? You still out on Parson's Road?"

"Yup, sure am. Workin'on my tan." I loved teasing Lucian. It was almost like playing Russian roulette.

"Well, best put your tanning lotion away for now, son. We've got an MVA about five miles north of you on I-90. I'm on my way, but you're closer, so get that skinny butt of yours in gear and go take a look-see."

"Roger that, Sheriff."

I hung the mic back up and turned on the lights and sirens. Grabbed my sunglasses off the dash, slipped them on and left the relative shade of my hiding spot for the open, sunbaked highway.

MVA's were always tricky. Like domestics, you never quite knew what you were going to find. Could be something as mild as a fender-bender or something as horrific as total annihilation of steel and chrome. I was praying for the former, but as I rounded the last corner pretty well on two wheels, I saw black smoke rising up to the sky on the edge of the horizon and knew this was going to be a bad one. Just how far out was Lucian?

As I got closer, it appeared that most of the carnage was in the right lane; my lane. An HP car, lights flashing, blocked the highway. As I slammed on the brakes and got out of the car, the poor guy looked almost as relieved as I felt; he had company now and so did I. I glanced at my watch, wanting to verify the time for the inevitable report I was going to have to write later. It was 1405.

I didn't recognize him, but he greeted me like he was seeing an old friend come to call.

"Any idea what the hell happened here?" I asked, surveying the scene over his left shoulder.

"From what I can tell, it looks like a head-on. Not much left of either vehicle."

I went to move past him. He stopped me with a hand on my shoulder as I went to pass.

"There's bodies…" and suddenly I noticed how young he was. Younger than me and I'd just turned the big two-four last month. He was what? Maybe twenty at the most? Young…and scared. I sure wasn't looking forward to this myself, but _someone_ had to do it!

"First time?" I asked. He nodded, swallowing hard.

"Yes, sir…"

"You check for survivours?" I knew the answer to that question, but had to ask.

"No, sir….just got here. Thought it was more important to block the highway, y'know…but I called it in as soon as I saw the smoke."

"Good thinkin', son." I had to say something to ease him, even though he should've checked the scene out upon arrival. We all made mistakes. We all froze at the wrong time.

"Look, you just stay here, keep an eye out. I'll go see what there is to see," and the relief on the poor guy's face, the relaxing of his posture, was plain to see.

As I gave him a pat on the back, all his fear seemed to transfer over to me. I swallowed it down. Gave my hat a small adjustment on my head and did what I had to do. No other choice. Far off in the distance, I heard sirens. Help was on its way, but not fast enough.

I squared my shoulders and took a deep breath. The acrid, sickening smell of anti-freeze, oil, gas and burning rubber filled my nose and my lungs. I could TASTE it all as I approached the scene. I was moving fast, but I _seemed_ to be moving in slow motion.

Did a quick survey. No imminent danger of fire as far as I could see. Most of the smoke seemed to be billowing from the engine of the nearest vehicle…or what was left of it. Hard to really tell. A pick-up truck, its back end towards me. A Ford. Out of state license plate. Idaho. Skid marks, indicating it had been heading in the opposite direction to where it ended up.

I moved up the driver's side of it. Saw an arm dangling from the open side window. Male, by the look of it. Close enough now to see that he was dead. Half his face was smashed in, probably from hitting the steering wheel on impact. There was blood EVERYWHERE! Knew it was pointless, but it was procedure; I felt for a pulse in his neck and wrist. Tried hard not to look at the one blank eye he had left. That was the worst part of death to me. Eyes with no light in them.

No pulse. I looked past him in to the cab. Empty beer cans littered the floor and the seat beside him. The smell of blood and booze worked its way in to the mix that already made my stomach uneasy. I did my best to convince myself that puking now would not be a good idea.

This wasn't the first time I'd seen Death, in life or on the job. When I was a kid, I'd seen a man get trampled by a bull. When I was still a newbie in the Department, Lucian had taken me with him to a suicide call; a kid over-dosed on smack. Lucian's way of bringing home to me the dangers of drugs, just in case I was thinking about trying it out for myself.

He had taken it upon himself to keep me on the straight and narrow, especially after the way I'd come to meet him and ended up working for him. Lucian was a good friend of my dad. It had been my dad that forced me in to making the acquaintance of Absaroka County's meanest Sheriff, entrusting my growth from 'a punk' to 'a man' to Lucian's discretion.

Lucian's discretion was pretty humiliating sometimes and downright brutal, to be honest. To his credit, he must have seen something worthwhile in me. After all, he'd promoted me from cleaning the cells and bathrooms, from being his all-around gopher to a full-fledged Deputy once I'd finished college.

Of course, other things had been in play then, but still, he gave me a car, a badge and a gun, so he must've trusted me to use them. With Sheriff Connalley, you didn't ask questions. You just took what he gave you and made the best of it.

And Lucian had given me a hard education in the facts of Life….and Death. This wasn't my first rodeo, but it was sure one of the messiest! I convinced my stomach to settle down and move on. Nothing I could do for this guy. He was long gone…

…and by the evidence, I couldn't help but feel he'd gotten what he'd deserved. Drunk asshole! I pulled my notebook from the back pocket of my jeans, unclipped my pen from my breast pocket and began to write down my observations as I headed further up the road. Needless to say, I only wrote down the facts and kept my personal feelings to myself. A good cop knew how to keep his feelings locked up inside. Doing that had always been second-nature to me anyway. That and the ability to keep a poker face, no matter what.

As I ran down the highway, I made note of the fact that the pick-up had left no other skid marks. It was plain to see that hitting the brakes had been an after- thought on his part. Anger wanted to well up in me. I held it down. Be professional. Be emotionless…

The second vehicle was beyond recognition. Almost off in to the ditch, what had to be its front end facing me. The hood was popped up, the engine compartment squashed in. Hard to believe that something so strong and heavy could end up that way. Debris scattered all over. The impact must have been incredible! The laws of physics laid bare before me.

Sirens getting closer…but the ticking coming from the car before me seemed louder. Seemed like the sound of time slipping away…It was unnerving. Eerie. Almost foreboding. I felt a shiver I couldn't ignore run through me. I felt panic sweep over me. I must've known! I felt my notebook and my pen slip from my hands. My hat flew from my head as I ran.

Passenger side was closest to me. A woman, halfway through the windshield, her flight impeded by the hood that had been hiding her from my first sight. I knew that dress. I knew that auburn hair.

Oh, dear God! Oh, sweet Lord! Oh, SHIT! OH, NO!

It was MY MOTHER!

I ignored the glaringly cruel evidence of my eyes. I chose not to see what was. I hoped in spite of…

I wasn't a cop. I wasn't a man. I was a boy, a kid, facing something that knew no preparation. Something that went beyond any nightmare, something I couldn't believe. Something so unreal…

…and yet it was. But it couldn't be!

No, it wasn't her! It was someone else! Had to be! Same dress, but so what? This was a small town, not many places to buy dresses. Lots of women probably had this same dress, right? She was curled away from me, I couldn't see her face! It wasn't her!

No matter what my mind said, my body knew differently. THIS WAS MY MOTHER!

My legs threatened to give out on me. I braced myself against what was left of the side of the car. My heart pounded like thunder in my head. My stomach was an icy cold knot in the middle of my being. My vison blurred until the tears slipped from my eyes. I reached out to her, my arm heavy as lead but shaking like a leaf in a strong wind. I couldn't breathe…

"Mom?..." Barely a whisper.

"Mom?" A little louder, but so shaky as I laid my hand upon her back. Did I think she was only sleeping? Did I think that if I touched her, she'd wake up? A strange place to take a nap, under the hot August sun…

She didn't move, no matter how much I hoped she would. I knew she wasn't going to. The clinical part of me, the part that was doing its best to make sure I survived this, saw quite clearly that her neck was broken, maybe even her back. Again, blood everywhere. On my hand…

The emotional part of me was quickly going out of control. I didn't WANT to survive THIS! How was I supposed to? No death EVER had prepared me for THIS!

I'd just seen my mom last weekend! She invited me, Martha and of course, Cady, over to the homestead for a barbeque. I knew the invitation was mostly her way of seeing Cady; she could never get enough of her granddaughter.

I was standing in the kitchen with her, both of us looking out the window, watching Martha watch over Cady as she took those wobbly steps only two year olds could take without falling down.

"You've got yourself a beautiful little girl there, Walter."

She said it so wistfully, as though a girl had been what she'd always wanted. She loved ME, I knew that, but it seemed clear to me that having a girl as a second child would have pleased her so. For her, there were no other children…and maybe that's why she loved Cady so very much. I'd given her that, at least.

"She's the light of my life," I told her. I meant it.

"No matter how she came to be here, she's here for a reason, son. She's so truly yours. So much like you when you were that age…"

She took her gaze from Cady and came towards me, looking up at me,

"I know things with you and Martha – they're not the way you wanted things to be. You two have your differences for sure, but you do your best to keep those things between the two of you! You raise that little girl of yours with nothing but love and kindness and always do your best to protect her from everything else. She deserves all those things you might not have gotten, growing up."

I saw tears well in her eyes as she reached up to touch my face.

"I always tried my best to show you nothing but love, son. Like Cady, YOU were my everything. I loved you completely. I adored you. I was always proud of you, no matter what! You were my light on the darkest days, my sunshine through the storms. My headstrong, adventurous, dreamy, smart, sweet, kind, little boy. I tried my hardest to protect you…" and her voice broke.

"Ma…" I reached out for her.

She shook her head and dashed her tears away. Most people thought I got my toughness from my dad, but they were wrong. She placed her hands on my forearms while I held her by her small waist.

"I tried, Walter, as hard as I could, but I couldn't protect you from everything." We both knew what she was talking about.

"You do better by that little girl of yours! You do whatever you have to do to keep her safe, no matter what! You promise me, Walter. You promise me RIGHT NOW!"

"I promise, Ma. No ones' going to hurt Cady. No one's going to make her cry. Don't worry, I won't let it happen….and please, Ma, don't be so hard on yourself. I know how much you loved me. I know how much you still do and always will. I always felt it and it always pulled me through. I wouldn't be here without you and you know that! You gave me my love of reading. You taught me to play the piano. You let me dream and hope…"

"Son…" She stroked my face, her love in her eyes.

"I will do anything for Cady, trust me."

"You already have, Walter. You made this all right. You stepped up even though it cost you your hopes and your dreams. Cady couldn't ask for a better man to be her father. I love you, my son."

She put her arms around me, her head on my chest and hugged me, hard. I returned the favour.

"I love you, too, Ma. Always and forever. You were the best mom, still are…"

"You're only saying that so I'll make you those cookies you REALLY love!" She pulled away and smiled up at me.

"I know you, Walter Longmire!" and she laughed, breaking that seriousness between us.

"Gotta admit, I do love your pecan, chocolate chip cookies!" And then I cringed because I knew what was coming. Sure enough, she stepped away from me only far enough to smack me with a back-hand across my chest.

"Good thing Lucian and your cop buddies can't see you now, hey, Walter? Afraid of a little old lady? My word! A big, old son like you?" she teased me.

"Well, YOU ain't no little old lady and you don't have that red hair for nothin', Ma. Besides, I KNOW Lucian's scared of you!"

"Let's just say he knows enough to do right by my boy! Now, get the cookies out of the pantry and let's go join the ladies, shall we? And share, Walter! I made enough for_ everyone_! You got your own private stash for you birthday!"

"I suppose you don't want to hear that I ate them all…"

"Like that's a surprise!"

We both laughed and I just had to hug her one more time.

…one last time.

Gone now. Gone before my eyes. The only person who'd ever known and loved the REAL me. Gone forever…

I felt the sobs hitching in my chest. I felt the tears sting my eyes. I felt the world closing in around me. I felt my stomach roll, tasted the bile in the back of my throat. Felt so lost. So alone. Couldn't take my eyes off of all that was left of her.

Sirens, getting closer…

Then I heard something else. A moan. Then I thought what I should've thought the moment I knew this was my mother. Where she was, my father had to be! She didn't drive. I had to go to him! I had to see!

"I'm so sorry, Ma…I don't want to leave you but I have to!"

How I did it, I'll never know, but somehow, I was around the car. The driver's door was popped open and there was my dad. Pinned by the engine block against his seat. Blood, blood and blood! I hardly recognized him.

I hunkered down. His eyes were closed.

"Dad!"

His eyelids fluttered. He groaned.

"Walt?"

"I'm here, Dad…I'm right here…"

He opened his eyes. He looked right at me.

"Son…I…I tried..to get…out of…the way…"

"Don't try to talk, Dad. Help's on the way. Any second now."

"It…all…happened…so fast…"

"Dad, please, don't talk. Stay still."

And I was crying now. I was sobbing. I knew there was no help for him. This nightmare was real! My dad talking to me just drove it home. I had no defenses against this. The pain, the fear, the knowing in his eyes was too much for me. I was helpless and he was dying right in front of me. This man, so tough, so hard, so intimidating was fading away before my eyes…Had I ever heard him whisper the way he was now? Had I ever heard fear in his voice? Never. Never, never!

"Son…my son…"

"Dad, please, be quiet…They're almost here…They'll save you!"

"Too late…Walt…Listen…to me…never meant…to hurt…you…Just wanted…to make…you ready…to face…the world…"

"I don't care about any of that, Dad! I don't care! Just hang on! STOP TALKING!"

Every word came hard from his mouth. Every word cost him.

"No son…You have…to hear…this. I never said…it when…you could…hear me…and this…this is…the last time…you're gonna…hear me…I'm proud of you…son and I…I love you…I'm…so sorry…for everything…"

I wiped at my eyes, saw his tears leave tracks in the blood that covered his face. Saw him desperately try to make me believe what he was saying. I'd waited my whole life to hear the words he'd just said. If taking them back would fix all this, I'd make him take them back. I'd stop waiting for the day I'd ever hear him say he loved me. Why did he have to say it now? Why had it taken THIS to make him bend enough to say the words?

Because he was crushed and he was dying. And I allowed it, without challenge, because I was consumed by grief so strong I felt it was going to be the death of me, too.

Somehow, he managed to get a bloody hand up on the side of my face. I grabbed it, pressed it there.

"Gary…he wouldn't listen…neither…neither would…you…"

What was he talking about? Who was Gary?

"Dad, it's okay….That's all over now…"

"Sure is…I loved him…and it…cost me…Swore I'd never….say those words…again…"

He was fading fast now. I heard it in his voice and felt it in the hand pressed against my face. Watched his eyes close. Thought he was gone. Then his hand was suddenly firm against me. His eyes opened and I knew he was really seeing me. Even his voice was stronger as he said to me,

"I love you, Walt! Always have…always will…" and that last effort cost him everything. The light went out of his eyes. His arm went slack. His hand would have slipped away if I hadn't held on to it.

Fresh and never-ending tears blurred my vison once more. Thank God for them because I'd looked up, towards the front of the car…and there was my mom, her blank eyes fixed on me through the blood that covered her face.

Too much. Too much, too much, TOO MUCH!

I backed away. Fell on my knees. Sobbed and puked and sobbed some more. Puked again and again…

…and that's how Lucian found me. On my knees beside my parent's car. Bent over, tears and snot and lunch, probably even breakfast coming out of me. Not the shock, though. Not the pain. It was embedded too deeply.

"Sweet Jesus! Oh, Walt! I am so sorry, son….I didn't know….Oh, _Chirst_!"

He was hunkered down beside me. Trying to comfort me, but who was comforting him? My parents were his friends. My loss was his loss. My pain…well, his was probably different. Mine was deep and hurt so bad. Mine was endless and felt like forever.

"Get the hell outta there, NOW! Both of you!"

Whoever was yelling was wasting their breath. I couldn't move.

"We gotta go, son…"

Lucian was tugging on my arm. I wasn't budging. Someone else came up to me. Two someone elses. Firemen.

Without ceremony, they yanked me to my feet. With no mercy, they ran, practically dragging me away from my parents. They threw me down behind the fire truck. Crouched down there with me. The next thing I heard was a huge explosion. The force of it rocked the truck. The sound of it deafened me momentarily. Just the one blast and then nothing but the sound of flames, consuming where I'd come from, who I was…

Like a sleepwalker, I looked down at my hands. My mother's blood on one, my father's on the other. I brought them together. Held them tightly that way. Wiped them down the front of my shirt. Still in that same state, I stood up. I moved around the side of the truck. Lucian tried to stop me, but I swept him aside.

Ashes to ashes. Ashes to wind. Wind blowing through me. Ashes falling all around me…

I stood there…and I watched them burn. If I cried then, I didn't know it. If my heart was breaking, I didn't feel it.

Lucian was in front of me, trying his hardest to pull me away from it all. No luck. I'd turned to stone. A stone with a voice even I didn't recognize. No emotion at all.

"My name is Deputy Walter James Longmire. At 1405 on Thursday, August fourteenth, I received a call regarding an MVA on highway I90, twenty miles north of Durant Wyoming. Arrived on scene to find the sole male occupant of first vehicle DOA. Identity remains unknown at this time…"

"Walt…that's enough, son…" Lucian said softly. I kept going.

"Second vehicle contained two occupants, one female, one male. Female, Catherine Diane Longmire was also found to be DOA. Male occupant, John Martin Longmire was critically injured and succumbed to said injuries at the scene…"

I watched the flames. I watched it all burn away. The heat of the fire began to melt that cold detachment that had settled over me. I felt the tears return. I felt an incredible ache in my heart. I felt the bottom drop out of my world. The stone had cracked.

"My parents are dead…"and I felt my legs buckle. Everything went black then. Just before all the lights went out and I felt myself falling, through the roar of the fire, I heard someone calling my name. Lucian.

"Walt? WALT!"

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"Walt? Walt…"

Someone calling me softly. Someone different. I struggled through the blackness, trying to find my way. I don't know how I knew it, but I did. This was not that same time. This was not that same place. I was still in pain, but the pain was different.

I felt a hand around one of my own. I fought my way up from the darkness, but I couldn't quite make it to THERE. The best I could do was make it to a lighter shade of black. Didn't know for sure if I was dead or alive. Couldn't really tell. If I was on the Other Side, where was that Light?

But there were two sides to the Other Side; Heaven…and Hell. Silly of me to expect that I would go up. This darkness, this cold place…

Maybe I'd been sent here to spend eternity without light, with only my memories to keep me company, replaying, again and again, all the seemingly endless tragedies that had made up my life. Feeling losses forever and not even being able to cry over them.

Whoever was calling me, I didn't want to see them. I didn't want to open my eyes only to find out that THIS really was IT and that no matter how hard I'd tried to right my wrongs, I hadn't tried hard enough. Left here in the dark, forever…


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note: I was spending some much needed time with my family and so, you've all had to wait a bit for this next chapter. The good thing is, it's a loooong one. Even better, I'm working on Chapter 7 and with luck and another sleepless night, I hope to have it up tomorrow...fingers most definitely and tightly crossed! Thanks to all of you for your patience.:)**

** Yes, I'm still out here and I still have lots of ideas! Grab some popcorn, sit back, enjoy and ever and always let me know what you think:) I'm gonna sit back for a moment and watch the sun rise...:) It's been a long but productive night:).**

**Update - can hardly wait to get moved, not have to work so much and spend those wonderful, magical nights just writing and writing and writing...Back for sure in October:).Okay, make that December:)  
**

**Chapter 6**

Indulging in a bath instead of showering had been a big mistake.

How long had it been since I'd done this? Even I couldn't remember. Never had a tub like this. So deep that I had to hang on to the sides to keep from floating away. So just made for lounging with its sloping back. The water was hot and steaming, the oil I'd added to it causing the water to bead on my skin, filling the room and my senses with its spicy, woodsy scent.

The whole experience was decadent. Sensual…and invited deliciously wicked thoughts about Walt. It was hard enough to shower, running the soap over my body and imagining that it was Walt's hands on me, but this, _this _went so far beyond that!

All I could say was that it was a good thing I'd taken care of all the other details before I'd decided to fill up the tub! Once I'd slipped in to it, I was a goner…

It had to be almost time for Walt to be strolling in the door.

I should be out there, dressed and ready to greet him. Up until the bath, I'd been having trouble deciding just what exactly to be wearing to welcome him home. It had been a toss-up between just the sexy lingerie I'd bought or the sexy lingerie underneath an equally sexy one-shoulder, tight-fitting black dress I had. It all depended on whether or not I wanted to be suggestive in my desire for him or just plain blatant.

If I went with just the lingerie, I knew supper would end up being breakfast; he'd never be able to resist the garter-belt and silk stockings! If I threw the dress on over top of it, the outcome might be more interesting. He very rarely ever saw me in a dress to begin with, and the one I had in mind was not just _any_ dress! There was something about having one shoulder completely exposed, the slit up the other side equally exposing a good length of thigh…and Walt _loved_ my legs!

In that get-up, I could tease him. We'd sit down to a candle-lit supper, but could I really sit across from him, chowing down on one of those magnificent t-bones Henry had left with me? Somehow, I doubted it. I'd be watching him eat. I'd be watching him open his mouth for every bite, watching him take a swallow of his beer, his Adam's apple moving up and down. Watching his big hands manipulating the silverware and the table would go flying, the food would wind up all over the place and I'd be on him like white on rice!

The plain and simple truth was that no matter what I wore, or didn't wear, supper was doomed. I missed him like crazy and from our conversation, he felt the same way, too. I should've just planned a magnificent breakfast instead…

And here I was, lounging in the tub.

Maybe it was better if he just came home and found me here. Why not? The tub was big enough; he'd fit. We'd already tried out his old shower, why not the new tub? Then, on to the new shower come the morning? They were about the only two places left in this cabin where we hadn't made love…

'Made love'…Oh, my God!

Once upon a time, I'd been stupid enough to insist that what we did had been nothing more than fucking each other! "Fucking each other's brains out" had been my exact words. How stupid was I? More afraid than stupid, for sure. So afraid to take that last step in truly giving myself to him. How the hell had he ever found it in himself to forgive me? Because he loved me. That's what he'd told me. He loved me enough to let me work it all out on my own…

And without his love, I'd be lost.

"Oh, Walt…"

I couldn't help but say his name out loud. He filled me up, in all ways. In my body, my mind, my senses and that refrain from a song I didn't even know the rest of the words to filled my head…

"_I don't want anybody else. When I think about you I touch myself_…" and I did just that. Ran a hand up my thigh, imagining it was his hand. Ran it up and over my breasts, imagining his mouth there, unable to let go of the side of the tub with the other one, knowing I'd slip under the water if I did. It felt alright…but then, there was another line…_ain't nothin' like the real thing, baby…_and whether that was another song or just some commercial I'd heard, the words were true.

I could imagine and touch myself all I wanted to, but without Walt, it all seemed pointless. It was more than just a physical wanting when I thought of him. It was that sacredness that came with his touch, that thing that was between us, too big to define with mere words, too intense to even try describing.

That word Henry had said…_me'esesvotse_…did it have something to do with what was between Walt and I? Was it the Cheyenne equivalent of 'this is fuckin' awesome'?

I had to laugh at that. Couldn't imagine Henry ever saying anything like that, no matter what the language. That I'd actually remembered the whole word/phrase surprised me; yay me!

The laughter died, but not the smile on my face. Whatever it was between Walt and I, all I knew for sure was that he definitely brought out the woman in me! Made me glad, for the first time in my life, that I'd been born female. All I'd needed was a real man to make me feel like a real woman…

…and oh, what would my mother have to say about _that_?

That's when my smile faded.

She'd tried so hard to make me act like a girl, to be her perfect daughter, her little princess. I suppose that I couldn't blame her; I was her only daughter, surrounded by four boys….but in my opinion, she'd tried too hard. Her efforts, her remarks had only made me feel bad about myself. Made me feel like a failure, made me do anything I could to give her reason to be so fed-up with me. I was my daddy's little girl, for sure. He accepted me, never tried to change me, but my mom!

Yeah, if she could see me now, she'd be calling me out for being with someone so much older than I was, maybe even tell me I had 'daddy' issues and maybe in some fucked up way, I did, but I wasn't totally buying that. Walt could be my age, could be younger than I was; it didn't matter. Walt would be who he was, no matter….and Walt would always be exactly what I needed. Nothing my mother could say would ever change my mind about that!

Through my brother, Michael, I knew she was pissed and disappointed with me for divorcing Sean; that just wasn't the Catholic way to do things! She'd have a goddamned heart attack if she knew I was 'living in sin' with Walt. Maybe I should call her up and tell her, just to get her off my back once and for all. As far as she was concerned, I'd been on the road to Hell since the day I was born and maybe I had been before I'd met Walt. I'd done some things, been in situations, been in bad places and once, I'd dragged my mother in to one of those situations….and where had her Catholic morals gone then?

I couldn't think about that! What I'd done, how it had ended…it had cost me a future I hadn't know I'd wanted until I met Walt, until I slept with him, fucked him, made love with him. I know it had been the defining moment for my mother, when all she'd foreseen about me came true and I couldn't deny it, but the fault wasn't all mine! If she'd just let me be, let me live, let me be who I was instead of who she wanted me to be, none of it would have happened…or maybe it still might have, but if she'd only loved me, we could have made it through all that.

Now, I hardly spoke to her. I never initiated it, anyway. If she called, sometimes I'd answer. More times than not, I wouldn't. I was truly waiting for that Italian moment when I became 'dead' to her. There was a part of me, a very spiteful part of me, that wanted to throw Walt in her face. Wanted to tell her that I finally knew more about being a woman than she ever would! Wanted to rub it in her face that unlike her relationship with my father, I didn't need babies or proper manners or the missionary position to hang on to my man!

All us kids knew about my father's affairs and I, for one, didn't blame him! My parents should have divorced years and years ago, but oh, no, that wasn't the Catholic way to do things! The Catholic way seemed to be to suffer, to go through life setting impossible standards, unable to meet them no matter how hard you tried. Sweeping indiscretions under the rug, along with a shit-load of sins and showing the world that holier-than-thou face instead. At least, that's how it was in my family. Somehow, a week of fasting seemed to erase a year full of sins. Going to confession weekly made everything alright…

I'd finally confessed my sins.

Not to my mother. She kept a list of them in her mental roll-a-dex. Not to a priest. Hadn't been inside a church since I was a teenager. Not to some all-avenging God. I'd confessed them to Walt. On a cold, January night. On the porch of this very cabin. In the dark. In the open air…and he heard my confession and so, too, did the spirits I'd come more to believe in. They believed me, they received me. I'd felt it.

…and Walt. His absolution was worth more to me than any faceless priest telling me to go forth and sin no more. His own sins, buried deep for so long, finally spoken, made me know that I truly wasn't alone, that I wasn't the bad person I'd been made to feel I was. Made me feel I deserved something more, something better, _someone_ better for the first time in my life.

…and that someone better had taken me in his arms, had carried me inside this place, layed me down on the bed with him and let me cry and cry and cry until all the poison that was inside of me was gone. He'd cried, too. Silently, but I felt his tears on my neck as I held him so very close to me. As we held each other like the lost souls we were, clinging to each other, we were sharing parts of ourselves that we'd never shared with anyone else and never would. In the dark and the darkest hours, we gave ourselves to each other beyond the physical. When the morning came, we sealed the deal with our bodies and had been together ever since.

I didn't need anybody else. I had Walt. The Walt that only I knew….and he had me in the same way. Meant to be. Destined to be. Fitting together like the last two pieces in the puzzle of our lives. The last two pieces that had maybe fallen on the floor, been lost under the couch or a rug. Found at last and with an audible sigh of relief and triumph, snapped together to finish the whole thing.

I imagined the Great Spirit working on the puzzle, being pleased with Himself when he got it done. Being satisfied that all was as it should be. I believed in the wider view of the world, the deeper meaning of spirituality versus religion. I believed that everything around me was sacred, alive, living with purpose. I believed that the forests were holy places, the plains, mountains, lakes, rivers and streams were holy places. I believed that a higher power lived inside of me, that I was worthy of life simply by being born. I believed, for the first time in my life…

…and I believed in Walt, the way he believed in me.

Wow, how metaphysical was I getting to be? How profound and deep? Did having a bath do this to everyone? Was this the kind of shit Walt thought about when he drifted away? I had to laugh again, calling all this 'shit' and knowing that no matter what transformation I'd undergone being invited in to Walt's world, I was still myself. Knowing that I fit here just the way I was.

I know both Henry and Walt got a kick out of me trying to describe this new-found world with profanity-laced phrases. What the hell, I yam what I yam….It is what it is, as Henry would say and Walt? He'd just look at both of us in despair while we pushed his buttons. He couldn't hold the look for long, though. In the end, he always gave in to that smile of his. Threw up his hands in resignation and Henry and I would hug him and laugh. I wasn't the only one to go through a transformation.

These days, Walt smiled a lot more. Laughed a lot more. Put up with a lot more. He was easy and relaxed and a little more open with the people he loved. I was so lucky to be one of them…

_My_ life. _My_ world. My _Walt_…

We'd only been together a month, if you were to measure that in physical intimacy terms, minus this past week that he'd been away, but it felt like we'd been together forever. We would be together, forever! I knew _that_. And forever truly did mean just that. Through countless lives, past and future, through brightest days and darkness nights…through eternity and for all time.

Damnit, if I kept waxing poetic like this, I'd end up teaching a yoga class or something equally as unlikely for me! But then again, maybe that wasn't so unlikely. I felt like I'd opened a door leading to all kinds of possibilities. For the first time in my life, I felt that I could do or be anything I wanted.

I'd always felt that being a cop had been pre-ordained for me, but now, I wasn't so sure about that. I know Walt felt that same way, too. We'd talked about it. Being together had changed everything. Releasing our pasts had been like saying goodbye to nightmares and welcoming dreams we thought had died with open arms. The whole wide world lay out there before us, just waiting for us to take it on!

Okay, seriously, I had to get out of this damn tub! I was getting more romantic than Walt ever could be and that was almost scary, considering I was supposed to be the practical one. Maybe it would help if I just opened my eyes. Might just get me out of this dreamy state I was in…

…or maybe it was time to going back to imagining Walt finding me here like this. Yeah, there was nothing dreamy about that! Steamy, definitely! Oh, yeah…Walt coming in to the bathroom in search of me. Opening my eyes to find him looking down at me from the doorway, seeing that god-awesome desire in his eyes. Watching them change to that deepest blue. Raking my own eyes over him, every inch of him, standing there. Hungry eyes. Devouring gaze.

Would I stand up and let the water run off my naked body, like Aphrodite rising from the sea? Would I hold my arms open to him, inviting him in to my world of sensual pleasure? It was all Walt's fault for telling me that story. All his fault for comparing me to the goddess of beauty, love and pleasure…

…and if I was his Aphrodite, then he was my Adonis. Handsome beyond description, Desire personified. I'd rise from the water and he'd rise in his pants, blatantly letting me see that bulge that turned me on. Feeling it would be even better. It would make my knees go weak, the way it did when he'd brush up against me in his office.

At work, we tried not to get physical with each other, but more times than not, we failed. He'd call me in to his office on some pretext. I'd get up, leave my desk and know that everyone else knew what was about to happen, but pretending I didn't. I'd close the door behind me, lean against it and watch him get up from behind his desk. It didn't matter if we'd just made love that morning or the night before. He'd stand up, stand tall and his desire was put on full display for me.

He'd start unbuttoning what few buttons remained to be undone on his shirt and I'd watch him while he watched me. I needed the door behind me just to stay upright. I'd feel my heart beat faster, run the tip of my tongue over my lips, like I was starving and he was holding out the best meal ever, just for me.

My hands found their way to the buttons on my own shirt and the air in the room seemed to pulse around us. Eyes locked. Eyes on fire. Bodies feeling each other's vibrations. Which one of us was going to break first? Most times, it was me. One minute, I'd be standing there, testing myself to see how long it would take for me to cave and the next, I'd be across the room in what felt like one big leap, in his arms, on his lap or the edge of the desk, or the couch, tearing at his clothes while he tore at mine.

Our mouths fused together, hot and wet, demanding, exploring, tasting, tempting, teasing. Removing only what clothing was necessary to get at each other, to get him out of his pants and in to mine, in to me! Over in a flash, but never really over. Straightening ourselves up and laughing at the absurdity of it all, thinking we could part and just go about our day. Since that first time New Year's Eve, Walt had warned me that he'd never get enough of me and he was right. I'd never get enough of him, either. Wildfire was not meant to be controlled…

Sometimes, I'd be out on patrol. I'd radio him. He'd come to me. I'd be somewhere deserted. Sometimes, in my truck. Another quickie in the cold. Sometimes, I'd be out at one of the closed campgrounds, the key to one of the cabins held in my hand and we'd go inside. Still not warm, but we'd make it that way soon enough. Those were longer times, loving times…fully naked times. Behaviour completely unbecoming this officer and his gentleman but behaviour neither one of us could deny.

I could hardly wait for this winter to be over. I wanted to find a place outside, under the sun, under the big sky. I wanted to call him there and make love to him in the open…

…but right now, I would settle for Aphrodite and Adonis getting it on!

In my mind, I was standing in this tub, dripping wet in more ways than one and Walt was walking towards me, his shirt open, his hands undoing the buckle on his belt. No hurry. Taking his time. In my mind, I couldn't wait. I stepped out of the tub and met him halfway. Pressed my naked wet self against him and was just standing on my tiptoes to kiss him when –

A loud bang somewhere caused my eyes to fly open, my heart to skip a beat, shattering my fantasy.

I sat up in the tub so fast, causing the water to slosh over the sides of it. I felt my eyes, wide open, my ears the same way, seeking, listening. Waiting on edge. A moment of panic swept through me. I knew where it came from, but couldn't control it.

I jumped out of the tub, threw on my robe and hurried out to the bedroom. Grabbed my gun off the nightstand. Released the safety. Stood there on high-alert. Felt the knot in the pit of my stomach. Felt that remembered fear fill me, bringing a sense of nausea with it. Felt myself going light-headed.

"Calm the fuck down," I told myself.

It was just a noise. No big deal. Worthy of investigation, sure, but no big fuckin' deal. I willed myself to relax the death-grip I had on my gun. Keep it ready, just in case, but don't be hysterical about it! For all I knew, it was Walt out there and wouldn't that be a sight to see, me pointing a loaded gun at his head? Some not sexy welcome home that would be!

That thought, that image, should've made me laugh, but it didn't. I knew where this intense reaction was coming from and why, but I couldn't control it, not completely. I'd thought I was over all that, but obviously, I wasn't. I was _alone_. _Something_ had made that big bang! It reminded me of a trap door slamming shut, a body hitting the hard cement ground…

My heart slammed in my chest. I was almost gasping, trying to breathe. I felt remembered horror and for a moment, stinging tears blurred my vision.

"Calm. The. Fuck. Down!"

It better not be Walt out there because I couldn't keep myself from straight-arming my gun out in front of me, my finger dangerously close to the trigger. Couldn't stop my shaking legs from taking one step, then another, moving from the bedroom to the living room. Couldn't quite hold the gun steady, but trying to.

There was only one small lamp lit up in the living room and the fire had burned down to glowing embers. Shadows lurked all around me. I recalled Henry warning me that bad spirits were around us, always and I swear to God I could feel them pressing against me as I swept the room. As far as I could tell, everything appeared normal.

I knew I was over-reacting, but couldn't pull back.

The only light in the kitchen was coming from over the stove. I hit the overhead light and sure enough, everything looked just the way I'd left it. I was just about to let my guard down, let out my breath when the bang came again. I jumped. It was coming from outside.

I pushed aside one of the curtains and took a look, turned on the outside light. The weather had certainly changed since I'd stood out on the porch, saying goodbye to Henry. The storm he'd predicted had arrived. Whether the snow was falling or just being blown around was hard to tell. The wind was ferocious!

The trees around the cabin swayed. I could hear the gate to the corral rattling against its latch. One of the wooden chairs on the deck had been swept over…and maybe that had been the bang I'd heard. I kept listening. The trees were creaking, the gate was still rattling and the wind was howling…but no more bangs.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. Dismayed, alarmed, I saw that Walt's two hours were up. A new panic filled me…or maybe it was just more of the old panic. Same source, same fear.

"It's okay," I told myself.

If Walt had run in to this storm, he'd be forced to slow down. He'd be smart, drive carefully, maybe even pull over if it was that bad. He knew more about driving in this kind of weather than I did, even after all my years here.

Just watching the snow blow around made me shiver. Hearing the wind howl around the cabin and down the chimney like a banshee creeped me out. Everything was okay, right? Walt was fine, he had to be. He would be!

I set my gun down on the counter, satisfied that I didn't need it. No intruder lurked in the cabin. Only the wind, knocking things around. Only the wind blowing through me, making me anxious. In truth, Walt would be pushing it on the best of days to get back in two hours and this was the worst of nights, so it made sense that he'd be late. No need to panic. No need to worry, but I did.

Something was wrong.

In an effort to convince myself otherwise, I went back to the bedroom, to get dressed, to make myself ready. Walt would be here, just a little later than anticipated. I'd stayed too long in that damn tub anyway. No playing Aphrodite tonight. Go with plan A, the little black dress.

I managed to get the red, silky, see-thru bra on, along with the matching thong, but that was as far as I got before that nagging feeling hit me again.

Something was wrong.

I drifted to the closet. Thumbed through Walt's shirts, trying to calm myself, trying to bring him closer to me. I took one out. It was the dark one, brown almost black, that I loved so much on him. The soft one. I held it up to my face, wanting to take in the scent of him, but the only scent I caught was the laundry detergent and that somehow made me sad. I felt the tears slip from my eyes.

Without really thinking about it, only knowing that I wanted him close, I slipped it on. A thousand miles too big for me, but I didn't care. I did it up anyway. The tears kept coming.

Something was wrong.

Why the hell had I never bought him a cell phone? If I had, I could call him now. Could hear his voice, would know he was okay. If I really wanted to, I could call the office, get Branch to radio him, patch me through, but that would be panicking, wouldn't it? Besides, with this weather, it was possible that I wouldn't be able to get through to him anyway and then I'd totally freak out! I was being silly, emotional and totally irrational.

_Nothing _was wrong!

Only the wind. Only the chill it brought with it. Nothing but one of those out of nowhere storms that happened around here. Hell, if it was that bad, Walt might not even make it home tonight at all. He'd turn back or pull off in to one of the smaller towns along the way, check in to a motel and find a way to call me.

Sure, I'd be disappointed as hell, but knowing he was safe would be all that really mattered. _Knowing_ it would be the biggest relief right now. I glanced at the bedside clock. Two hours and twenty minutes…

I was freezing. The fire needed to be brought back to life. That meant I'd have to go out and get more wood. Instead of the black dress, I pulled on a pair of thick, dark brown leggings, a pair of socks, just as thick. Maybe there was still a log or two inside. I didn't want to go out there.

Something was wrong.

I couldn't ignore it any more. I could tell myself anything, but I couldn't keep fooling myself. I felt like puking. I felt weak and shaky. I felt poised on the edge of exploding, shattering. Something was wrong with Walt! Something bad.

The certainty of it made me jump to my feet, which made me almost faint. I honestly saw stars for a moment and I staggered. Caught the dresser to keep from falling. I wasn't crazy about going out there for firewood, even though Henry had stacked some on the porch, but nothing was going to stop me from going out there to find Walt!

Just as I thought that, there was a pounding on the door. No casual 'may I come in' knock, but a full-on wake-the-dead hammering and then a voice, shouting my name.

"No!" The word, the denial, slipped from my lips and I held on to the dresser for dear life. I couldn't stand up!

One more shout and then the door flung open. Of all people, it was Branch, stepping inside, closing the door behind him, looking around. I must've made a sound. He looked right at me. We faced each other across the living room. I didn't need to hear what he was going to say; I saw it all on his face.

I lost it then. I fell to the floor on my hands and knees. I wailed like a crazy woman. I kept repeating no, over and over again until my stomach clenched and I gagged. Not much to throw up. I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, but still my body insisted on purging itself.

I felt just like I had in that fucking bomb-shelter at Chance's place. When that body bag had hit the ground and I thought it was Walt. Only this time, maybe it was!

"Oh, God! Oh, no!"

All that trauma, all those emotions, all that endless grief; it all came back to me. I was there, but I was here. It hadn't been Walt in that body bag, but maybe this time it was.

"Just don't black out!" I ordered myself.

"Vic!"

Branch was beside me now, trying to help me up.

"Don't touch me!" I screamed at him.

I pushed him away so hard that he fell on his back. I jumped to my feet, ran to the kitchen. Grabbed the keys to the truck.

"Where is he?" I demanded.

"In Hardin," Branch replied as he got to his feet.

"And just where the fuck is that?"

"About an hour north of the border."

"Is he…is he..dead?" I could barely get the words out but I had to know.

"No! No, but it's not good. The connection was bad. He was asking for you…"

"Who told you this?"

"Like I said, the connection was lousy. I think they were taking him to the O.R. He's in Bighorn County Memorial. You're supposed to get a hold of Tracy McKay there."

"Why didn't you just call and tell me this, Branch?" I demanded, yanking on my coat, pulling on my boots.

"Why drive all the way out here and waste precious fucking time?"

"I was on my way in when the call came, Vic. It's only been five, maybe ten minutes. I came here, to take you to Walt."

"_You_ aren't taking me _anywhere_, you_ fucker_!"

Old feelings all stirred up. Branch had changed, he really had. Since shooting his dad, since Barlow's death in prison, since he'd gotten counselling for all his issues, since Walt had taken him back, since Branch had willingly accepted his guidance and mentorship with sincere gratitude and humility. He'd changed…but to me, in this moment, he was still the little prick who'd done whatever he could to force Walt out, to question his authority, to put him in danger. To me, he was still the little prick who'd tried to kill me with his bare hands and why not? I was back there in Chance's bomb shelter, thinking Walt was dead!

I was standing in this kitchen, hearing what sounded like he was dying. Knowing in my entire being that he probably was and if I was being hard on Branch, so what? I didn't give a FUCK! Why couldn't it have been Ferg coming to me with the news?

Not that I would've reacted any differently, but I might have been calmer. No, probably not…Maybe it was better that it was Branch. I could use all the anger I'd ever felt towards him to keep myself from losing it again. If I lost it, I'd be done….

"You can't go by yourself. You can't drive like this.."

"You little shit! You useless turd! You mother-fucking sonofabitch, don't you DARE tell me what I can or can't do! Don't you even THINK about trying to stop me!"

The words just flew from my mouth without any thought at all, at least where Branch was concerned. All I could think about was Walt. All I didn't want to think about was his dying. All I had to keep me moving was my anger. I could lose it this way, but if I truly lost it, I'd be done…

I yanked open the door. A gust of wind blew snow at me just as Branch grabbed my arm. I turned, I swung and I punched him right in the face. He staggered backwards, but kept a hold on me. He didn't try to retaliate. He just pointed past me. Pointed to my truck buried under a foot of snow and his car, cleared off and running.

"FUCK!"

I had no choice; I had to go with him. I grabbed two things off the counter and shoved them in my coat pockets before racing off the porch, jumping to the driveway. I heard the cabin door slam and Branch was right behind me. I went to the driver's door. He grabbed me again.

"Vic, I'm so sorry…" and his voice actually cracked. So did my palm, against the side of his face.

"YOU don't get to be sorry, Branch! You should've been sorry a long time ago! You hurt Walt, you hurt me and if you don't take your fuckin' hand off me, I'm gonna HURT you!"

"You hit me one more time and I'll leave you here, Vic! I swear to God I will! I can't change what happened and I'm so sorry for it all. So sorry for this" and my god, he was crying.

"If I could've picked my father, I would've picked Walt. I owe him my life. I owe him everything…and I love him…"

He stood there, looking down at me. I saw the truth in his eyes. I saw the truth in his tears, but I couldn't break.

"If you love him, then get in this thing and let's get to him."

I went to the passenger side. Branch wiped the tears from his eyes. I got in. So did he. He hit the lights and sirens and we were off. He grabbed the mic.

"Ruby, we're on our way. Those plows out?"

"Roger on that, Branch. Just heard form Mitch. The storm's tapering off the closer you get to the border. You should be able to go full-out once you hit the highway."

"Roger that. Any word from Montana?"

"Negative…not at this time…"

Ruby's voice tapered off. She'd been trying her hardest to sound professional, unaffected, but I knew she wasn't. It was beginning to show. I wanted to talk to her, but if I did, I'd lose it. If I lost it, I'd be gone…

"You, uh, you be safe out there, Branch. Just get Vic to Walt…and let me know what's up when you can…"

Hardly standard radio talk, but thankfully, most departments were implementing less use of codes and more 'normal' speak. I wished all I was hearing was codes. It would somehow make this less real, less…personal. Branch must have been feeling the same way.

'Affirmative, Ruby. Will do. Over."

And that was it. Just the wail of the sirens, the flashing of the lights, the blinding daggers of snow coming straight for us, the wipers marking time with their rhythmic slap, slap, slap.

Time, passing. Time, slipping away. How much time was there? Would we make it in time? Would be able to buy some time?

"Can't we just fly out?" I asked.

"I already checked with Omar. No one's flying anywhere in this. I tried, Vic, I really did…"

I looked at him then, at his profile, lit up by the dash lights. Could see that he was going to have a nice shiner where my fist had met his face. A part of me felt bad about that. Just a small part, though. The majority of me was with Walt, wondering, worrying, fearing…and I felt my stomach heave again. I gagged, leaned forward and brought a hand to my mouth. I felt Branch slow down.

"No! Keep going!"

Time was slipping away. Couldn't waste it. I rolled down the window. Stuck my head out in to the frigid wind and snow and puked down the side of the car. Fortunately, the wind whipped it sideways and not back in at me. I felt my hair clip tug and then it was gone. The hair in my face kept the snow from hurting quite so much when it hit me. My tears froze on my cheeks.

"Vic? Vic?"

Branch was tapping my shoulder. I pulled my head back in the car and took the napkin he was holding out to me. I wiped my face. I moved. I acted. I responded…but it all felt so mechanical. It all felt so empty. If Walt died, I'd die, too…I swear I felt something break inside of me.

No, I couldn't think that way! I couldn't, I wouldn't give up hope. If I did, I'd lose it. If I lost it, I'd be gone. If I lost it, HE'D be gone…and I wasn't going to let that happen!

"I'm sorry I hit you, Branch…"

The words seem to come from a million miles away. Soft. Emotionless. I could only stare down at my hands, fiddling with the crumpled up napkin.

"I'm sorry I said those things about you…"

"It's okay, Vic…Everything's going to be okay. Walt's tough. He'll make it", but I heard the doubt in his voice, felt it in my soul. Blindly, I reached out. He met my hand with one of his. It was just for a moment. A slight squeeze was all he could afford. The road was slippery and he needed both hands on the wheel. In that moment, I'd felt a connection. We were two wounded warriours, our common goal to find the head of our tribe and be there for him. Don't know exactly what Walt was to Branch, but things were not as they had been between the two of them. Maybe he was like a father to Branch now. To me, he was my lover, my life, my world…

I'd known something was wrong. Would I know it if he slipped away? I had to believe I would. I had to believe I'd feel it, because I wasn't feeling it, not now, not yet.

If he was gone, I'd be lost. If I was lost, I'd never find my way back. I'd go insane. I'd go with him…Being without him would be worse than Death itself. That's how I felt.

Not yet. Not like this. Not so far away from me…

I wished Henry were here with us. He'd know what to say, what to do. Should I call him? I checked my pockets. I didn't have my cell phone. What I did have was my gun in one pocket, the dreamcatcher in the other. I'd grabbed it because…because…I didn't really know why. It had just seemed important. I wrapped my hand around it.

We were on the highway now, the cabin far behind us. True to Ruby's words, the snow was letting up, a little. Branch had been driving fast. Now, he was driving faster. The car wasn't sliding as much anymore. The miles slipped by beneath us. I held it together. If I lost it, I'd be done…

I propped on arm on the window ledge, rested my head against it. Watched the miles fly by through the passenger window, not really seeing anything. Not that there was anything to see. Just as well. I could feel myself turning inwards, could feel myself trying desperately to latch on to something, anything that was better than this.

Good memories to quell the anxiety. Good thoughts to combat the bad. Good days when the sun was shining, when the wind was non-existent and the day was warm. A day with Walt, big as life and mad as hell…

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Driving from Durant to Casper was boring enough the first time around but to drive back from Casper to Durant was beyond fucking boring! I was pretty sure Walt was punishing me somehow by making me go there. So, I'd been the arresting officer, so I'd had to go to court. On the surface, it all looked innocent and right enough, but I still wasn't convinced that Walt wasn't behind the whole thing in some way. He could be such a prick when he wanted to be, but he was a cute prick, so I didn't get too mad about it. Bored with it, yes!

So, here I was, cruising up the highway. Sun shining, blue skies, highway going straight on forever. Had the Ray-Bans on, the air-conditioning cranked. I just wanted to get home, get my reports over and done with and go for a hike, a run, anything that involved actual physical movement, not just sitting here.

The one bright spot about this whole trip was that I was driving my brand spanking new truck! My old one had been used in a road block and I'd been with Walt to watch its demise. That cow cop, forget his name, had slammed right in to the thing and totalled it, killing himself in the process. He'd been trying to kill the guy with him, but that hadn't worked out. Not a pretty sight, not a good ending to that particular story and not what Walt had envisioned happening, but the guy had made his choice. In the process, he'd wrecked my Chevy. I'd grown kind of fond of that thing. Oh, well…out with the old and in with the new.

This 'new' was a Dodge Ram 1500, with all the bells and whistles. Nice leather seats, big old console for storing all my shit, compartments down either side of the box for storing all my 'police' shit, a radio that actually worked and a fuckin' awesome GPS nav system! I didn't get lost anymore, which kind of ended that bit of humour for Walt and the rest of them.

Branch had been so pissed when he'd seen my truck. I know Ferg was envious, but too nice to say anything about it. Branch, on the other hand, had ranted and raved to Walt, which was about the same as ranting and raving to a stone. He'd ranted and raved to me, in private, calling me Walt's 'favourite'. I told him to go fuck himself! He really should've seen that one coming a mile away!

So what if I was Walt's favourite? If kicking his ass and calling him on his bullshit made me his fave, I'd take it. If being his fave meant I got this new truck, then maybe it was about time the other two started standing up to Walt, like I did, instead of being so damn afraid of him. Even Branch. He could swagger all he wanted, puff out his chest like a damn penguin, preen around like a peacock, but in the end, he was scared of Walt. A lot of history between those two. A lot of bad feelings, but still, why be afraid of him? He was basically a pussy cat in lion's clothes. I wasn't afraid of him. Not like that, anyway.

The only thing I was afraid of when it came to Walt was the way he made me feel. I was pretty sure he wasn't even aware of it, let alone responsible for it. I was, after all, a married woman, but that didn't' mean I was dead or that I was blind!

Walt Longmire was one fine looking man!

Tall, rugged, handsome beyond belief. The most interesting blue eyes I'd ever seen and trust me, around here, I was surrounded by blue eyes! Everyone in the department had them but me and still, I found Walt's to be the most amazing. Not necessarily for their brilliance, but for their depth and the way they changed colour, depending on his mood.

He had a head of light brown hair just begging to be rumpled; thick and probably too long, but I liked it. He had nice features, strong features, little lines and furrows around his eyes, probably caused by so much time outdoors and peering in to the distance the way he did when he was thinking.

A nice nose, a good, strong jaw, nice teeth. Always a good day's growth of whiskers on that nice jaw of his, just begging to be touched….and touch them, he did! It was weird, but I liked watching him run his hand over those whiskers, liked to hear them rasp when we were in his truck together. I wanted to touch them…but I never would. I'd dream about it, think about it, but never act on it! I was married after all, just not dead.

Walt had a way of dressing for comfort more than style. He tended towards button down shirts, always left tantalizingly open to mid-chest, but I honestly believed he did it more as an expression of freedom than some kind of display. Display his softly curling chest hairs it did, though….and I wondered how soft those babies would be. If they tickled.

Sean wasn't hairy like that. Smooth as the proverbial baby's bottom and I always thought I liked my men that way, until I'd met Walt. Sean was all corporate; suits and ties, manicures and haircuts, dress shoes and socks that matched his dress pants. Perfectly handsome in his own way…

…but there was something wilder about Walt and his button up jeans, faded and loose. Something earthy about his dusty, well-worn boots and that hat he wore, the way he tilted his head when he put it on or took it off, the way it caused a shadow to fall across his eyes at a certain angle. There was something relaxed about him, something comfortable and honest. He was a man at ease in his own body.

It showed in the way he moved. Easy. Loose. Unhurried. He spoke much the same way and that voice of his! The first time I'd heard it, I'd thought of quiet thunder drifting across the sky. I'd even nicknamed him ThunderSpeaks, making sure to never call him that out loud.

That voice! It just topped off everything he was so perfectly. He was a man of the earth. That's the best way I could describe him. A man at home with the elements, with nature. In tune with the world around him. Not necessarily the people around him, but definitely the world that surrounded him. Wyoming born and bred. Blue skies, rolling plains, curving hills, hard, majestic mountains that took your breath away…

Oh, yeah, Walt was one awesome package….and I felt drawn to him. That's why I was afraid of him. If there was ever a man who'd make me think twice about being married to Sean, it was Walt Longmire. I think the part about him that got to me the most was the fact that he seemed oblivious to just how sexy he was! Totally unaware of it, which only seemed to make most women very aware of it. I'd seen the looks he got. Why not? He was a widower now. A sad, quiet man who'd lost the woman he loved…

It wasn't just my marital status that kept me from crossing the line with him. It was also the fact that I respected him and his grief. I respected him for loving someone that much, for losing himself in his grief and I respected him enough to kick him in his ass and make him get on with his life. He was too important to this town, this county, this department to just slip away…and there was so much I had to learn from him. So much he had to teach all of us.

He made me wonder sometimes if I'd ever been in that same kind of love he must've had. I thought it would be easy to love him, but to be the object of his love? It must have been intense! I couldn't imagine him doing anything half-hearted. His wife must've been a very special woman…

Enough of that!

Even with the air-conditioning on, I was finding myself too warm. Yeah, here in my truck, alone, I'd admit to myself that Walt got to me…and I'd also admit to a little undeserved jealousy regarding his deceased wife, but I had to work with the guy and then go home to my husband! I loved Sean, I did, but just how I loved him was not as clear as I'd like it to be…Time to switch my focus – I didn't need deep thoughts right now.

One really awesome feature about this new truck was the built-in iPod adapter. All I had to do was connect it and I could kiss that crappy country music the radio pumped out goodbye and blast some good old-school tunesl. If I played it loud enough, it was sure to drive out these thoughts in my head.

"Goodbye, Walt Longmire, hello Guns N Roses."

As soon as I heard the opening bars of Welcome To The Jungle, I had a great idea. Why not see what this new truck was capable of? I'd had if for a while now, but had never driven far enough to really open it up. Out here, on the open highway with no one around, I felt it was time to see just how fast these horses could run. I had the music; now I just needed the speed.

Pushed down on the accelerator, lightly at first. The truck responded quickly. A little harder and she growled and leapt forward. Time to feel the wind. I hit the button and the window rolled down. The loose hair that had escaped from my ponytail blew against my face.

I smiled. I laughed. I put my hand out the window and imagined I was flying. When Sweet Child of Mine came on, I was running along at close to one hundred miles per hour. By the time I reached Paradise City, I was rocking out, singing along with Axl and still running smooth. The music was cranked, I was having the time of my life and that's when I saw Walt pass me going the opposite way.

"Oh, shit!"

What the hell was he doing way out here? I checked my rear-view and sure enough, he was pulling a U-ee and on my tail, lights flashing, sirens wailing. Seriously?

"Deputy Moretti, you got a problem there?"

I heard his voice clearly over the radio, even with the music blasting. I thought about it, I really did…and then I didn't. He couldn't catch me, not in that piece of shit truck of his. A Ford versus a Dodge? Yeah, no contest. I grabbed the mic.

"Sure do, Sheriff. There's a suspicious looking guy on my tail. I'm goin' Code Six on this until I can shake him." Code Six meant I was busy, and I was.

I hit the accelerator, hard. The truck surged forward. The needle climbed to one-ten, then one-fifteen. I needed both hands on the wheel to keep her steady. Still running smooth, but it was best to be prepared. I checked the rear-view again. To my dismay and secret delight, Walt was catching up to me.

"Officer Moretti, I order you to pull your truck over, now!"

No can do, Sheriff. I checked the highway. No traffic. There was an open field to my left. I veered across and took her off-road. Opened her up just a little more. Doing one-twenty now. Walt was still behind me. U2 was belting out 'Vertigo' and I went with it, kicking up some serious dust in my wake.

"Vic, stop that truck! If you don't, you're looking at an FTC."

Failure to comply? Seriously? How's this for an FTC, Walt?. I spun the wheel and the truck went in to some serious donuts. Talk about 'Vertigo'! It was exhilarating to say the least! It was breath-taking, heart-stopping, adrenaline rushing pure excitement. Needless to say, I'd had to let off the gas to perform that little stunt. The truck spun and spun with its own momentum until it stopped and when the dust cleared, there was the Bronco, in front of me. There was Walt getting out of it, striding towards me, all business.

I watched him come to me. I heard the truck idling. U2 was still blasting from the speakers. I thought about it. My foot was only inches away from the accelerator.

"Out of the truck, Vic."

Hands on hips, weight on one leg, he waited. His expression was unreadable, as usual. I put my foot on the break. Wrapped my hand around the gear shift, all the while watching him. How the hell had he caught up to me so fast? Was I going to give up?

"Put it in park and step out of the vehicle. Last chance, Vic."

He pulled his citation pad out of the back pocket of his jeans. Unclipped a pen from the breast pocket of his shirt.

"Are you seriously writing me a ticket, Walt?"

"First offense, failure to comply. Second offense, exceeding the posted speed limit. Third offense, sassing back your superior officer."

"That's not legit" I protested.

He put his pad back in his pocket. Returned his pen to its home. Pulled his cuffs off his belt.

"Out of the truck, Vic. Now!"

I waited for some give on his part. When none was forthcoming, I slammed the truck in to park and turned off the ignition.

"You aren't going to arrest me…are you? C'mon, Walt, I was just having some fun!"

He came closer, was standing right beside my door, meeting my eyes with his.

"You were driving recklessly and using a police vehicle in an improper manner. Arresting you would seem like the logical thing to do, wouldn't you agree?"

Not even a hint of a smile on his face, in his voice or in his eyes. I was in big shit! I went to open the door, forcing him to take a step back. He took one and only one. I had to squeeze my way out. Maybe I could talk my way out of this.

"Think of it as testing out this fine police vehicle" I tried.

He was too close to me. I felt flushed and it wasn't just from the ride. I looked up at him, hoping against hope that he might have cracked a smile. No such luck. He simply held out his hand to me.

"Give me your keys," he ordered softly. I handed them over. He told me to turn around, hands behind my back. Okay, that was taking it too far!

"You're not going to arrest me are you? Seriously, Walt?"

"You broke the law."

"I was just having some fun!" That sounded lame, even to me.

"What you did was wrong, Vic. You can't just go speeding down the highway when you're bored."

I felt him slip a cuff around one of my wrist.

"Alright, go ahead, arrest me," I blurted out, "Just what the hell are you doing down here anyway? Checking up on me? Following me?"

"If I were following you, you'd never know it."

He was right behind me, his voice coming over my shoulder. I felt the heat from his body, felt his breath against my ear.

"You need to be taught a lesson, chiquitita…"

_Little girl_. He's just called me a little girl!

"And what kind of lesson do you have in mind, chico rudo? Huh?"

I might not know Cheyenne but I knew my Spanish! Oh, yeah, he was a tough guy, but I was a tough girl.

"For starters, you're going to be quiet and get in the passenger side of this truck. If you don't do it on your own, I'll cuff you and carry you over there myself. You decide how you want to do this."

Cuff me and carry me? For a moment, that sounded deliciously sexual, especially when his breath tickled my ear and made the little hairs around my neck tingle. Somehow, I didn't think he meant it that way…or did he? Walt was strange sometimes. Just in case I was wrong, I decided to make the move on my own.

"Are you confiscating my truck?" I asked as I made my way past him.

It was a tight squeeze between him and the door and our bodies actually rubbed together for a moment. It felt electric. I averted my eyes; I didn't want him to know I'd felt anything and I sure didn't want to know if he did or didn't. Wasn't sure which one would be worse.

I climbed in to the truck, as obedient as a dog. Honestly, I was a little frazzled by that moment of contact.

"So, you taught me to sit. What other lessons do you have for me?"

Why the hell could I never stop with the sass around him? If I just shut up, maybe I'd get out of this with a reprimand and nothing else. The way I was mouthing off, I'd probably end up in the jail cell back at the office.

He climbed in the driver's side after adjusting the seat for his much longer legs. Without replying, he started the truck. The music blared out of the speakers. I went to turn it down. He stopped me.

"Put that song you were listening to back on."

"What?" I believe I was flabbergasted.

"That song. U2. Vertigo."

What the hell? Walt knew U2? I must have taken a turn in to the Twilight Zone. Too freaked out to think about it, I grabbed my iPod and went back to Vertigo. The countdown began.

"Now, I'm going to teach you how to really drive this thing."

To my amazement, he cranked the music even louder, slammed his foot down on the accelerator and we were off! I clung to the overhead door handle while he zig-zagged all over that field. I saw him smile. I saw about ten years come off his face and shoulders. I laughed when he took us in to one donut after the other, looping our way back to where we'd started from. One more wild ride across the field, over some small rises that actually sent the truck off its tires, a few more donuts and then we were once more at the Bronco. He shut off the music but left the truck running. He handed me my keys through the window. I scooted over to get them.

"Oh, my God, that was soo much fun, Walt!"

"It sure was" he agreed. He stared back to his own truck. A few steps and then he stopped, turned to me.

"You're going straight back to town, chiquitita. I'll be right behind you. When you get to the office, I'm going to drive you home."

"Huh?" What the hell was he talking about? He didn't seem pissed at me anymore.

"You're getting yourself a little vacation, Vic. Three days suspension."

He turned and headed for his truck.

"Fuck you, Walt!"

Really? The guy was such a prick sometimes! He'd had fun, I'd seen it. What the hell?

He opened the door to the Bronco. Took a moment before climbing in.

"You keep telling me that, Vic…Makes me think you might just have a crush on me," and he laughed. Really, actually laughed, shook his head and climbed in to the Bronco. I was mortified. I could not believe that he'd said that. Too close to the truth for comfort? Yeah, maybe…I was going to have to change my signature line when it came to him.

He started the truck. Pulled up right beside me. I'm sure he didn't miss my discomfort. I could feel it all over me. His window was rolled down. He gestured to the highway.

"Ladies first, nice and easy…"

"Oh, just bite me, Walt!"

"One day, maybe I will…" and now he was winking at me? The guy was unbelievable, ruining all my lines by making them sexual. What the hell was the matter with him? I was insulting him, not complimenting him. I really wanted to call him the biggest prick I'd ever met, but I knew where that was going to go.

Instead, I just stuck my tongue out at him, gave him the finger and kicked up a shit-ton of dust. I could only hope he was choking on it.

"You big, stupid prick," I muttered, seeing him right behind me in the mirrors.

I wanted to be mad, but I couldn't be. I was too busy imagining his response if he'd heard me say that. I had to laugh. One day, I might just try it, to hear for myself what he'd have to say about that! One day when I'd be able to pull it off without blushing.

Today was not that day. Today, I was wondering just how big his stupid prick was! Not the best thoughts to be having about your boss, but I was still remembering the feel of him so close behind me. Trying to figure out if he'd done that on purpose…Not the best thoughts to be having when I was married to someone else.

Maybe three days suspension wasn't going to be such a bad thing after all. I needed to cool down. I needed to remember the face of my husband, to paraphrase Stephen King.

A sudden thought occurred to me. I grabbed the mic.

"Walt, is that suspension with or without pay?"

"I guess you'll find out when you get your paycheque!" and yes, he was chuckling.

In fine form today was Sheriff Walter Longmire. I'm sure it was all at my expense. Whatever the reason, I had to admit it was good to hear him laugh, great to see him smile.

Yup, it was going to take me those three whole days to get over _this_ day! At least I wasn't bored anymore. Just because, I stuck my hand out the window and gave him the finger once more. Damn, it felt good!

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"Vic…Vic? We're here…."

I rubbed my eyes, not comprehending. I was still back in that other time, that happy time. What the hell was Branch doing here?

"We're at the hospital."

…and it all came rushing back to me. How had I fallen asleep on the ride here? What the hell was the matter with me? I fumbled with the door handle, still groggy. Branch was there, outside, opening it for me. I'd treated him so badly and he was opening the door for me. What a fucking night this was!

I got out, had to steady myself for a moment, and then I was running. Running like I'd never run before. I hit the Emergency doors on the fly, crashing them open. I headed straight for the receiving desk..

"Walt Longmire," I panted. "Where is he?"

The nurse looked at me, did a double-take. Couldn't blame her. My hair was a mess, my face was all blotchy from crying, I was wearing a shirt ten times too big for me under my jacket and I could barely speak, I was breathing so hard.

"We're not allowed to give out patient information to anyone but family. Are you family?"

I wanted to scream. I wanted to grab her by her throat and rip the answers out of her and at the same time, I knew all about procedure. I understood the need for it, had acted much the way to others as she was acting towards me now. My understanding only went so far, however.

Somewhere in this damn jacket I had my ID. It was my uniform jacket, for fuck's sake! I fumbled through my pockets. Found it in the inside one. Held it out for her inspection.

"I'm Deputy Moretti, Absaroka County Wyoming. Walt - Sheriff Longmire, he's my superior officer. This is Deputy Branch Connalley "– he'd finally caught up to me - "We were informed that there'd been an accident and told to come here."

"We were told to ask for Tracy McKay," Branch interjected.

"The Sheriff is in the waiting room, just off the main hallway to your right."

The Sheriff? Did she mean Walt?

"What Sheriff?" I asked, totally confused and totally hopeful that she meant Walt.

"Sheriff McKay, from Yellowstone County. Sheriff Maubrey is there too, from Bighorn County, where the accident occurred.

"And what about Sheriff Longmire? How is he? Where is he?"

"I don't really have any information at the moment, nothing beyond the fact that he was brought in here as a result of an MVA."

"Well, can't you fucking find out? Jesus Christ, is this a hospital or a fucking toll booth? If I throw a fucking dollar at you will you tell me just how bad he was when he was brought in here?"

No patience left. All understanding vanished. Being a cop wasn't getting me anywhere with this woman.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Moretti, I just don't know much more. I only just came on shift an hour ago, and really, you aren't family, are you?"

Oh, she was young. Probably just graduated nursing school. All cops were family! She didn't know that, obviously. I wanted to scream at her that Walt was my lover, my man, my reason for living. I wanted to tear this whole damn place apart, looking for him…and I wouldn't stop until I found him!

She must've seen some of that on my face. She backed up a bit.

"I…I'm sorry, I don't know what else to tell you…"

Well, maybe this damn Tracy McKay would be able to tell me something! For her sake and her safety, I surely hoped so.

I stormed down the hallway, entered the waiting room. Looked around. Cops. Civilians. Men. Women. No name tags. Everyone was looking at me, at Branch, who was right behind me, then back to me. I felt a growl start in my chest. I felt my thong creep up my ass-crack; damn fucking things sure weren't made for wearing! If I hadn't been out of my mind with worry over Walt, I might have found it funny. My eyes raked the room one more time. No one moved. I tilted my chin up. Planted my hands on my hips. Stay mad. Stay focused. Don't lose it any other way but…

"Alright assholes, where the hell is Walt Longmire and which one of you fucks is Tracy McKay?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7:**** Hope you all enjoy this! Tracy meets Vic - and how do you think this is going to go? LOL**** When you get to the end of this, I'm sure you'll all agree with Tracy. :)**

**My house sold as of Oct. 3. Just have to move and then I'll be all settled and back to writing! Thanks so much for your patience - I promise I'll do my best not to disappoint:).Yeah, it's taking longer than I thought to get settled...  
**

Aww, crap!

What the heck was _this_ all about?

This crazy woman, barging in to the room, asking about Walt. She looked like some kind of homeless mess, hair all wild and tangled, wearing a man's shirt that hung down almost to her knees, some kind of dark jacket hanging open on her. Just who was she, coming in here swearing like that and why was she looking for me? Only one way to find out…

I got to my feet. Everyone in the room was looking from the crazy lady to me. I saw Ellis Maubery move to get up and I waved him back down. He was the Sheriff in this county, but this was apparently _my _problem, as if I didn't have enough of them already!

"Is there something I can do for you, ma'am?" I asked.

She was searching the room, looking around me, past me, wild eyes darting all over the place. Just a tiny little thing with a whole lot of attitude! There was a man behind her, holding back just a little. Looked to me like he was sporting the beginnings of what was going to be a shiner to rival mine come morning.

Was he with this woman? My guess was yes, but I don't think he wanted it to be obvious. Couldn't blame him. I moved forward and then those wild eyes focused on me, became still and full of fire. Not the romantic kind either, trust me. If looks could kill, I'd be dead before I hit the floor.

"Are _you_ Tracy fuckin' McKay?" she growled sarcastically.

"I am…"

"Bullshit!

She dismissed me with her eyes and they latched on to someone behind me. I saw her lips curve in to the kind of smile a shark might wear just before taking a good chomp out of some unsuspecting swimmer. I just knew she was eyeing over that poor woman who'd been in the waiting room when I'd arrived here. Talk about a disaster just waiting to happen! All because my parents had to be daring when it came to naming me; thanks so much, mom and dad!

Hey! You!" she was yelling and moving forward. I stepped in front of her. Ellis was on his feet now. I saw him getting his cuffs ready. I was out of uniform, my cuffs at home.

I blocked her, trying to get her attention.

"Calm down, ma'am!"

The moment I touched her, she pushed me back, hard. I staggered a little and then everything seemed to happen at once.

Instinctively, I went to grab her. She hauled off and punched me, right in the nose! It was no love tap, either! I heard my nose crack, saw stars for a moment and all I could think was 'oh, no, not again!'

Blood started gushing down, all over my favourite shirt, but I wasn't about to take my eyes of this lunatic. The man behind her grabbed her in a bear hug and she struggled like a wild cat. Was she strung out? Hopped up on meth or something?

"Get your fuckin' hands off me, Branch!" she yelled. "Let go of me or I swear to God I'm gonna kick you so hard in the fuckin' nuts you're gonna need tweezers to take a piss!"

Really? Little woman, big mouth!

While that was going on, Ellis had moved behind her. This Branch guy apparently wasn't listening to her. He had her somewhat subdued, arms around her from behind, pinning her arms down, thank goodness, but she was sure making use of her legs! While she was struggling, something slipped from her pocket and hit the floor with a big thud. A gun! This lunatic was running around with a gun in her pocket!

"WHERE THE FUCK IS TRACY McKAY?" she screamed.

Oh, man! My nose was killing me, all I could taste was blood, but I moved forward again. When I bent down to grab the gun, blood dripped on to the floor. Just great! I stuck the weapon behind me, in the waistband of my jeans.

"I told you, I'm Tracy McKay_. Sheriff_ Tracy McKay!" I yelled, trying to make a point and out-do her. I was definitely at the end of my patience with her.

Not sure if she even heard me. While I was speaking, so was Branch.

"Calm down, Vic!"

For a moment, she was looking at me and I was looking at her. It was a moment of mutual shock and disbelief.

This was Vic? Walt's Vic? No way, couldn't be…but while I was looking at her, I noticed the emblem on her jacket. Absaroka County Sheriff's Department. Deputy Moretti. Two and two equals the blonde Italian deputy Walt had joked about being afraid of. Walt was in love with his deputy? His much younger deputy, Vic Moretti?

"Oh, shit…"

We both said it at the same time. Sounded like something she said a lot. That wasn't the case with me, but that 'shit' just came out before I could think better of it. I was stunned, to say the least. She was – I don't know what she was, but I was beginning to understand her behaviour. I could almost forgive her for slugging me in the nose…almost. Walt had warned me about her when I'd mentioned wanting to meet her one day. "Be careful what you wish for," he'd said…and I thought he was joking! Wow!

To say the room was in chaos was the understatement of the century. That poor woman behind me, the one Vic had set her sights on, was screaming and crying. Ellis was trying his best to get his cuffs on Vic's wrist while Branch tried to stop him and hold Vic at the same time. Hospital security, a nurse and what I presumed were a couple of orderlies had just barrelled in to the room.

I heard Ellis begin to read Vic her rights. Security was pulling Branch away from her and he wasn't going quietly.

"Vic, calm down! Stop fighting!"

Ellis had her cuffed now. She didn't take her eyes off me, but she quit fighting.

"Where's Walt?" she demanded of me "WHERE THE FUCK IS WALT? WHERE IS HE?"

Then, she collapsed to her knees, arms behind her, that wild blonde hair hiding her face. I heard her sobbing. I never wanted to hear anything like that ever again. Then, her head snapped back up and she pinned me with her eyes.

She tried to move her arms and a look of sheer panic, pure terror came over her.

Everything got totally out of control then. Eliis jerked her back on her feet and Vic immediately began thrashing around like a cougar caught in a net. Branch was flailing away at the security guards, trying to get to her.

"LET HER GO!" he was yelling. "Take those cuffs off her before she loses it!"

I glanced at him. I wondered who he was, how he fit in to all this. He had the same blue eyes as Walt, maybe a little brighter. Was he Walt's son? Did Walt have a son, did he have any kids? We hadn't talked about those things…

"LET ME GO, YOU PSYCHO SONOFABITCH!"

That drew my attention back to Vic. She was screaming, writhing, totally out of control. What was going on here? I expected conduct a little more becoming of a police officer from her. Yeah, I was upset, she would be more so, but this? This was nuts!

"Take those cuffs off her," Branch repeated urgently. "Let her go! You don't understand! Someone else cuffed her, beat her! Almost killed her!"

Vic's legs went out from under her again. Ellis let her go and she collapsed on the floor.

"He's dead," she wailed. "Walt's dead! You killed him you fucker! YOU KILLED HIM!"

She was looking at me, but it wasn't me she was seeing. I'd never seen anything like this!

"You two," I called out to the guards holding Branch. "Let him go."

It was obvious that he knew her. Maybe he could help her. I wanted to go to her, but maybe this time around she'd end up kicking me! There was definitely more going on here than her concern for Walt, that was for sure.

The guards glanced at Ellis. He looked to me. I nodded and Ellis passed it along to the guards. They let him go. The moment Branch was free, he went to her. Got down in front of her.

"Vic…Vic! Look at me! It's alright, it's okay! You're not there!" He looked up at Ellis.

"Get those damn cuffs off her, right now! You don't understand what you've done to her!"

"He's dead," she kept sobbing and thrashing, trying to get to her feet. Branch did his best to comfort her. The nurse stepped up then, hypo at the ready, the orderly by her side. Branch grabbed Vic and held her tightly against him, holding her head against his chest, muffling those horrible sobs, doing his best to subdue her.

"I need to get at her arm," the nurse said.

I got down on my knees with them. Hesitated, a little afraid, but Branch was holding her pretty good. He nodded at me. I pulled Vic's jacket away and down, along with the sleeve of her shirt. Over her shoulder to expose the top part of her arm. Branch kept hanging on. He didn't look so good… The nurse swept in and injected her with what I assumed was a sedative. I had a feeling it was going to take a horse tranquilizer to calm this woman down.

The sobbing died down. Became hitches. She relaxed against Branch. The sudden silence in the room felt heavy.

"Take the cuffs off her, Ellis," I said softly. I wasn't sure about it, but from what Branch had said, I thought it was clear enough that she was having some kind of flashback. Something horrible had happened to this woman and something horrible was happening to her again.

"You're not the Sheriff here, Tracy! This is my county and this woman is out of control! She was armed, is obviously dangerous and she assaulted a police officer. She punched you in the goddamned nose! You're bleeding all over the place!"

"This woman is…" What did I call her? Walt's girlfriend? Ladyfriend? She wasn't a girl and was hardly a lady from what I'd seen and heard. Walt's lover? I wiped the blood on my face with my shirt sleeve. Might as well totally ruin my shirt! Was my nose ever going to stop bleeding?

"She's Walt Longmire's deputy," was the best I could come up with.

"I don't care! This is my county and she's my prisoner!"

"She's been sedated, Ellis. She's not going anywhere. Take the cuffs off."

"We need to get her to a room," the nurse spoke up, "and you need to get your nose looked at."

I don't think anyone was paying too much attention to her, poor thing.

"She's not going anywhere, Ellis," I repeated. "I'll go with her, take responsibility for her."

"You don't know what you've done," Branch said to Ellis.

"And just who are _you_?" Ellis bit out, glaring.

"I'm Branch Connalley. I work with Vic. We both work for Walt. She's upset, we all are… She's…close to him. Please, just take the cuffs off. Doing that to her, it just made things worse…"

So, not Walt's son. That last name, though…it rang a big bell loud and clear in my head. No time to think about it now, though.

"Uncuff her, Ellis. She needs help."

It wasn't asking in my eyes. It was demanding. Ellis looked at me, hard.

"You're overstepping yourself here, Tracy," he said softly, warning me.

"Maybe, but you owe me one," and it was true.

Eliis and I went back a ways. I'd help him out a time or two and now I was calling in the favour. I watched him think about it; he wasn't happy at all.

"Alright," he finally gave in, but with his eyes, he was telling me this little thing between us was far from over.

Well, why not? This evening, this coming night was bad enough already and getting worse. If I was upset about Walt, just how the heck did this poor woman feel? And Branch…he really wasn't doing much better.

Ellis undid the cuffs. Vic's arms fell forward. She struggled against Branch, pushing at him with her hands.

"Let me go! LET ME GO! I have to get to Walt! I have to get back there! I have to save him!"

Was this woman ever going to stop fighting? Branch was doing his best, but she was only getting more agitated, if that was possible. Ellis was getting a little antsy, too. I moved forward.

"Don't you dare keep me from Walt, you fucker!" I heard her hiss.

Okay, definitely something between these two, but none of my business at the moment. I encouraged Branch to let go of her, to ease up a bit while I moved forward. I took his place, my hands on her upper arms.

"Miss Moretti…Vic? You're safe now…"

She raised her head. I dared to push the blonde tangles out of her eyes.

"Who the fuck are you?" she asked, seeming a little dazed.

"I'm Tracy…Tracy McKay…Walt asked me to call you…"

At the mention of his name, Vic's arms clutched at mine. Her eyes cleared.

"Where is he?" she asked anxiously.

"He's here…in surgery…"

Fresh tears ran down her face.

"Is he…will he…? What happened?"

"Look, you calm down. Take some deep breaths…I'm going to take you somewhere to get cleaned up and I'll tell you everything I know. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"

"I have to get to Walt!"

"I know, I know…but right now, he's in the O.R. There's nothing you can do for him except get yourself together. Can you do that, for him?"

"Okay! Okay, okay!" She was nodding her head, sniffling back her tears. That crazy light began to fade from her eyes.

"That's good," I encouraged her. "I'm going to get this nurse to help you. Is there anything you need?"

"I need Walt!"

"I know…but he needs y_ou_. He needs you to be strong, to be calm. He needs you to get yourself cleaned up and be ready when he comes out. You can do that, right?"

She looked nervously at me, then at Branch.

"Branch? You're here? You're here for Walt, too?"

"Yes, Vic, I am," and he reached out to her. She let go of me with one hand and met his with her own.

"He'll be so happy about that. He loves you, y'know?" More tears along with a shaky smile.

"I know he does, Vic…" and Branch choked up. He quickly kissed that hand of hers that he held.

"He loves you, too….and he's going to want to see you the minute he wakes up. Go with the nurse, Vic. Get yourself together and I'll wait here. Nothing's going to happen before you get back, I promise."

"Okay…" she sniffled. She squeezed his hand. "I'm so sorry, Branch! I don't know what's wrong with me…"and she was crying again. Crying still.

"It's okay. I understand, better than anyone could. It'll be alright, Vic. I swear to you, it will all be okay. You'll make it through this…"

"You did, right?"

"Yeah, I did…and you will, too…"

"And so will Walt, right?" She sounded like she was clinging to that hope by her fingernails.

"He will…He's tough…You just need to get yourself together so you can kick his ass like you always do."

Branch smiled and Vic actually laughed, a little. A really shaky laugh, but it was better than screaming. With some kind of silent signal, Branch and I helped her to her feet. The nurse came over and put an arm around her waist.

"Come with me, honey. I'm just going to make sure you're alright. It's not going to take long, okay?"

Vic didn't protest.

"And you," the nurse indicated me, "you might want to come along so I can check out that nose of yours."

"Alright, I'll be there in a minute…"

"Just back down the hallway, second door on your right."

"Got it, thanks…"

"Take care of her," Branch added.

"I will, don't worry. She's going to be okay."

Amazingly enough, Vic let herself be led from the room. It was then that I finally decided that maybe it was safe to exhale.

"Well, that was something," I muttered.

Everyone in the room, all six of them, counting Ellis, were watching Vic being led from the room and whispering. I told them the show was over, to relax and they did, taking up their seats again. Ellis was talking to the woman Vic had set her sights on when she was looking for me.

I turned to Branch. He was wiping his eyes with his shirt sleeve.

"You okay?" I asked, looking up at him. Always looking up at someone!

"Yeah," he nodded. I could see it wasn't true, but I wasn't going to push it.

"I get that she's upset, Branch, but what was all that other stuff? You said something about her being cuffed and beaten."

"Yeah, about a year and a half ago, this crazy survivalist guy basically kidnapped her and her husband. Beat both of them, especially Vic, with a baseball bat in the head. He was kind enough to put motorcycle helmets on them first," he added sarcastically.

"He had Vic's hands cuffed behind her back, tied to a chair while he wailed on her and then he threw both of them in to some kind of bomb shelter and then dumped a body down there with them. Vic thought it was Walt. He found out about the kidnapping and was on his way to get them out. I guess there were some shots and down comes this body in a body bag. From what I heard, Vic completely lost it."

"Was this that Chance Gilbert guy?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Walt challenged him to a duel, right?"

"Yeah…"

"And Vic? She was married back then?"

"Yeah…but not for much longer…That night changed everything for her."

"I read about some of it. Were you there?"

Branch hesitated to answer. Looked down at the floor for a moment.

"I, uh…no, I wasn't. Not until later."

He was very uncomfortable. I studied him and it was then that I heard that bell go off in my head again.

Branch Connalley. Son of the late Barlow Connalley, big land development tycoon. The man behind Walt's wife's murder. The man who shot at his only son…and Branch had shot back, seriously wounding him. He didn't die though, not then. Later. In prison. Under suspicious circumstances…

There'd been a lot of talk about Branch in the PD circles, too, even up here in Montana. Before that business with his dad, there were rumours that he'd gone off the rails. There'd been a lot of ruckus too, after that mess when Walt had somehow managed to get him reinstated with the Sheriff's department.

So, this guy was no stranger to crazy business. No wonder he looked so…haunted. I wasn't going to bring any of that up with him. It seemed better to pretend I didn't know anything about it.

"So, Vic…what happened to her after?"

"Well, Walt made her go for counselling. She seemed better, has been better, mostly her old self…but I noticed these past few days at work she seemed a little off. I think with Walt being away and all, it just set something off. PTSD they say. I'm not sure if that's true, but you go through something like that," he shrugged, "I don't know if it ever really goes away…" and he trailed off. He gazed at some point just passed my shoulder.

"She's never really been away from Walt since she started working for the department. Those two were always together. No big surprise when they actually, finally got together this past New Year. I don't know, maybe I should've called Walt to let him know something was up with Vic…I wasn't sure, thought even that maybe she was pregnant, but with this accident, her being cuffed…I think she's just been reliving that nightmare…"

Again he trailed off and I knew he was reliving some of his own nightmares.

"How is Walt?" he asked suddenly.

"I honestly don't know…He wasn't good when I saw him and I haven't heard anything since."

Some not so great thoughts were going through my mind.

"Did he look – "

…and that's when Ellis came up to us.

"They just brought Sheriff Longmire's truck in. Thought maybe this young man here would like to come with me and see if there's anything in there that should be taken out."

"I, uh, yeah, sure. Sure I can do that." Branch seemed almost relieved to have something to do besides wait.

"You'll be okay with that woman, won't you, Tracy?"

"I'll be fine, Ellis, don't you worry."

"Good! Now, go get that nose looked at, okay? Come with me, 'Branch', right?"

"Yeah…Sheriff McKay? Here's my card, in case anything happens while I'm gone. My cell number's on there. _Anything_, okay? With Walt or Vic."

"Sure thing, Branch. I'll call, I promise."

And then they were gone.

That left me alone to go face Vic Moretti.

Alone to face a lot of things, with a great many more to think about.

Absaroka County sure did breed some bizarre criminals and some interesting folks. Some more than interesting police officers, too.

In the space of a few hours, I'd seen one dying Sheriff, a man I'd come to think was a friend, and two traumatized deputies and just how the heck was this night going to go? I never thought I'd be starting it off by getting punched in the face!

So much was up in the air and where was it all going to land in the end? I really didn't like that word, 'end'…but if Branch and Vic had seen Walt the way I had, 'the end' didn't seem so far away…

…and how was I supposed to hide that image from Vic?

Luckily for me, when I entered the room the nurse had directed me to, Vic was nowhere in sight. I expected an examination room, but no, this was an actual hospital room. There was an actual doctor in this room, an older woman, maybe early fifties. Stylish salt and pepper hair, green eyes. Thankfully, shorter than I was! She noticed the look of surprise on my face.

"Between the weather and the wrong Valentine's Day gifts, the E.R's a little full at the moment and just a tad busy. Welcome to the deluxe suite."

She motioned me to take a seat and began cleaning my face, examining my nose.

"My name's Dr. Hunter and I'll be your on-call fixer-upper this evening."

"Where's Miss Moretti?" I asked, a little thrown by the doctor's demeanor.

"In the shower at the moment."

"How is she?"

"Sedated. Calmer. Not all that co-operative, though. I admitted her for observation and innocent by-stander safety, but I'd really like to run some tests on her. She's not going for that, though. The checked-in part, well, she's here about that Wyoming Sheriff they brought in, right, so she's gonna be sticking around for a while anyway. Do you know her?"

"Just met her, actually…"

"Well, she certainly gave you a nice 'howdy', didn't she?"

"Not one I'll ever forget,"

I laughed and then grimaced as she wiggled my nose. Darn, that sure hurt! It made my eyes water.

"Well, it doesn't seem to be broken, lucky for you. What's with the black eye?"

"Uh, that happened a few days ago. In the line of duty that time around, at least."

"Well, you'll be some kind of handsome come the morning!" she snickered.

Just what I needed, a doctor with a sense of humour!

"The morning's a long way off." I wasn't laughing. "This night feels like it's going to last forever. Do you know anything about Walt Longmire, the Wyoming Sheriff?"

"So that's his name. Obviously,I heard about that, but I haven't heard much more. I know Dr. Burgess has him up in the O.R. and that's about all I know at the moment."

She wasn't laughing, either. It seemed more like she was being evasive.

"Look, that woman, Vic, she's Walt's…'significant other'. I was here with him just before they took him in for surgery. He asked me to get her and I did. She wants answers and if I don't give them to her…"

"Then this nose of yours is going to be broken for sure?"

"Probably. If there's anything you know, anything you can tell me…"

"I take it you know this Walt Longmire, too?"

While she asked, she tossed a pale green scrub top at me.

"I do. I'm the reason he was here in the first place."

That fact weighed heavy on me.

"Honestly, I don't know much."

She glanced at her watch.

"Time-wise, it really hasn't been that long since he went in. I know it probably feels like forever, but from what I heard, he had some pretty nasty injuries. Dr. Burgess is our best surgeon so I can assure you that he's in good hands."

She finished taping up my nose and gave me a pat on the shoulder. Told me to change my shirt; not good for patients to see a guy covered in blood wondering around the hospital. I complied.

"Okay…but if you hear anything, anything at all, let me know. I have a feeling Vic's not going to be happy with 'he's in good hands'.

"You sure you don't want me to have her restrained?"

I couldn't quite tell if she was joking about this or not.

"Don't do that!"

I thought about what Branch had told me about Vic.

"I was told she might be suffering from PTSD."

I felt a little like I was saying too much, but if it helped…

"That could explain a few things," the doctor mused. "See if you can talk her in to letting me examine her because from her vitals, there's definitely a few things going on with that girl."

"I'm not really looking forward to finding myself in traction." I laughed, in spite of the situation. I was that tired.

"Should've thought about that," she snickered back and then she got a little more serious. " Don't worry about it. I have a feeling that before much longer, she's going to run out of steam anyway. I could be wrong, but we'll find out I guess."

"Isn't that attitude just a bit unprofessional?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Hey, I like my nose just the way it is, thank you very much! I managed to convince her to stay for 'observation'," and she did those air-quotes, "but she's not going anywhere until she finds out about this Walt Longmire, so that was easy, but without her consent, I can't force her to undergo testing."

"I get it. She's a bit of a handful, isn't she?"

"Just a bit…Looks like she already slugged someone before she hit you and being so damn tiny, I'd say she definitely has that 'girl-power' thing all worked out!"

"You sure do have a strange sense of humour, Dr. Hunter!"

"Hey, in this business, it's laugh or cry your eyes out and since crying really messes up my eyesight and my cognitive skills, I'd make one lousy doctor if I gave in to it, right?"

"I could see how that might be a problem."

I liked her.

"I'm Sheriff McKay, by the way."

"Well, then, Sheriff, you know all about the fine art of covering up your emotions, don't you? It's how we roll, right?"

She put her arm out, fist closed. I bumped her fist with mine, laughing, again.

"It sure is," I replied.

I was glad she reminded me of that emotional control. I needed some of that right now and I knew I was going to need even more of it before everything was said and done, especially when it came to dealing with Vic.

Dr. Hunter's pager went off.

"Duty calls," she said with a sigh as she glanced down at it.

"Should I reserve you a room, Sheriff McKay?"

"I'll be alright…I hope."

"That's the spirit!" She patted my shoulder again as she moved to the door. "I'll let you know if I hear anything, okay?"

"Thanks, Doc. I appreciate it."

"Good luck" she called as the door closed behind her.

A few moments later,the other door in the room opened and out came the nurse. Vic followed her, muttering something about being able to take a damn shower by herself. Her 'homeless' outfit was gone, replaced by a set of dark blue scrubs, her hair wrapped in a towel perched on her head.

As soon as she entered the room, she went to the closet and grabbed out that shirt she'd been draped in. She put it on and held it tight around her. Walt's shirt, obviously. It was as close to him as she could get at the moment. She also grabbed something else out of the pocket of her jacket; for a moment, my heart skipped a beat, but it calmed down when I saw what was in her hands. Of all things, it was a dreamcatcher!

She acted like she didn't know I was in the room. There were two beds; she moved to the one nearest the door. Sat on the edge of it. I was sitting in a chair close to the main door.

"I'm going to get you something to eat," the nurse was telling her. "Is there anything else you need?"

"Not unless you can tell me how Walt is."

"I'm sorry, I don't know anything about that."

"Well, then, that's all I need and you can't give it to me, so I guess I'll see ya later…"

She toyed with the dreamcatcher, adjusting it before setting it aside.

The nurse left. Vic took the towel off her head and began to rub her hair with it.

"You should've arrested me." Her voice was flat, emotionless.

So, she did know I was there.

"Hey, you were upset."

"I'd like to say that I don't usually go around punching people in the face, but that's pretty well a lie. Usually it's people I think who deserve it and you…well, you were the second person I hit tonight without provocation. I'd say I'm sorry, but would you believe me? I barely remember doing it..."

She still wasn't looking at me. She just continued to dry her hair, head down.

"It's okay, honest. Not quite what I was expecting, but then again, I wasn't expecting 'Vic' to be you, either."

She raised her head then. Pushed her hair away from her face and really looked at me. She was absolutely beautiful, almost regal, the way she was regarding me. Breathtaking in an exotic sort of way.

"This isn't the way this night was supposed to go…"

For a moment, she looked like she was going to cry again, but she didn't. I watched her take a deep breath. She held it for a moment and then let it out. My heart went out to her in that moment. That crazy hell-cat was gone and it its place was this hauntingly, and haunted, beautiful woman. So far, I'd only seen her out of control and now, I was seeing her fighting for control. She was gorgeous in her strength.

"Is there any news?" she asked, almost as though she knew I was thinking about Walt.

"Nothing."

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"I can tell you what I know."

"I'd appreciate that."

She sat back on the bed and drew her knees up. She sat Indian style; knees out, calves crossed over each other.. She picked up the dreamcatcher, absently turning it in her hands as she watched me and waited. She held me with her quiet regard. Her dark eyes seemed so deep. I couldn't tell how she was feeling, what she was thinking. She looked relaxed enough, but I didn't think that was really the case.

"From what I know, Walt was on his way home. He was about an hour away from the border when he came around a corner and there was a snow plow coming towards him. The weather was bad, visibility pretty well nonexistent."

I had to clear my throat. Her gaze was so intense it almost made me uncomfortable.

"I'm assuming this is all from the snow plow driver's report of the incident?"

What a switch this was. One moment she'd been swearing, ranting, screaming and now, here she was, concise, coherent and…professional. I knew the sedative had something to do with it, but really, once a cop, always a cop. In the end, you always fall back on what you know. Funny, I felt like a tongue-tied schoolboy talking to her. Those eyes of hers, that face…

"Um, yes…I read the report. I talked to him myself. He's still out there if you want to talk to him."

"No, that's okay, for now._ You_ tell me what you know. You're the one Walt was working with up here. _You_ know him, so _you_ tell me what happened."

I cleared my throat again. Time for me to be professional. It was hard, though. I felt…responsible for this.

"From what the driver told me, they both took evasive action but the plow clipped the back of Walt's truck. It sent him in to a spin. He managed to keep the truck upright, which in itself, was amazing, but he couldn't keep from going off the road."

Here comes the hard part. Vic raised an eyebrow as if telling me to get on with it. Funny, Walt did that, too, in the same way. I actually felt like Walt was in the room with us. I took a deep breath, wondering if I should skip over the details. I thought better of it once I looked at Vic again. She wanted to know, all of it. She _needed_ to know! I wasn't going to be the one to keep her in the dark. There was no place worse to be…

"He hit the trees, at a pretty good speed. The driver got out of the truck and found Walt dazed but conscious. He was having some trouble breathing, though…"

Vic pressed her lips together, worried at the dreamcatcher but nodded for me to go on.

"Um…it appeared he was going in to shock. There was a tree branch…it punctured the door and Walt...it went through his leg, upper thigh…he was pinned to the seat by it. FD had to cut the branch to get him out."

Vic blinked for what seemed like a hundred times, fighting back tears. She ran a hand through her hair, pushing it back, away from her face. She gave a soft gasp, eyes going to the ceiling quickly. Then they were back on me and her lips were pressed together again. Her eyes shone with tears that she didn't let fall.

It was at that moment that the nurse came in, a cellophane wrapped sandwich on a tray with a glass of milk to go with it. Vic thanked her and dismissed her all at the same time…

"The rest of it," she insisted softly, ignoring the food, setting it aside on the bedside table.

"When I got the call that there'd been an accident, that it was Walt, I came straight here. By the time I got here, they were just taking him to the O.R. He saw me, recognized me. Asked me to call his office…to call you…"

Vic got up. Left the dreamcatcher on the bed. She began to pace, one hand on her hip, the other on her forehead as though she had a killer headache. Back and forth, faster and faster. The hand on her forehead dropped to her chest, just above where her heart would be. It wasn't a headache. It was a heartache. The tears rolled down her face, quietly. Watching her, I felt my own kind of heartache.

"You saw him?" she finally managed to get out as she stopped her pacing.

I could only nod. Yeah, I'd seen him; I was still seeing him! One minute, he'd been in my office, on his way out. Bigger than life. Happy. Smiling. Telling me to keep the faith. Telling me to be careful. It seemed like only the next moment I was here, holding his hand. Trying desperately to hear him as he struggled to get the words out, to tell me to call his office. To let Vic know…

How much was I supposed to let her know? That I'd seen the tree branch sticking out of his leg? That I'd seen the horrible bruising and swelling on his upper abdomen, working its way up his side? That I heard him screaming before I'd even seen him?

Did I tell her how his eyes had been rolling around before I grasped his hand, how they'd pierced me while he was talking to me? Did I tell her how his hand had slipped from mine once the words were out? How the light had faded from his eyes, how they'd rolled up as they took him away?

She was hunkered down in front of me, where I sat, seeing what I'd seen. She grasped one of my hands.

"What did he look like?" I heard the tears in her voice.

"Not good…"

That's all I could get out. Not the details, but the truth, anyway.

"Tell me, Tracy!"

She squeezed my hand. I'm sure she didn't even know what she was doing. She was strong.

"Vic…"

"No, I _need_ to know!"

"He…he had some cuts on his face. The windshield got smashed. There was glass in his hair, blood on his face…"

She squeezed again. I didn't want to tell her what I'd seen, but the words came anyway.

"The tree branch was still stuck in his leg. Not bleeding much. I think it was stopping the bleeding, so they left it in. He was pale, in shock. There was a bruise, a big one, on his abdomen…"

"Dark? Swelling?"

I could only nod.

"Was he…was he in pain?"

Again, I didn't want to tell her, wanted to spare her, but she wasn't stupid. She'd seen this kind of thing before. She'd seen internal bleeding before; we both had. The words came out anyway.

"Yes," I whispered. "Yes, he was in pain…"

I had to wipe at my eyes with my free hand. I expected her to go nuts at any moment. Expected her to slug me again and I didn't even try to move. She took her hand from mine. Buried her face in both of her own small ones. With her head bowed, I saw her cry. Her shoulders heaved, up and down, but she didn't make a sound.

"I'm so sorry, Vic…"

She dropped her hands from her face; here it comes, I thought…but she was wiping at her own eyes, dashing her tears away. Trying to keep it together. Trying hard.

"If I hadn't asked him to come to Montana, he'd be home with you now. This would never have happened and none of us would be here."

That's how I felt, as stupid as it might sound.

"It is what it is…" and I was surprised, not only by what she'd said, but by the way she took my hand back in hers, covered it with the other one and held it gently. My puzzlement must have shown in my eyes.

"That's what Henry would say…It was an accident, Tracy. Not your fault. Not Walt's. Not the snow plow driver's, either…"

This was not what I expected at all.

"Who's Henry?" I asked. I left the debate about all this just being an accident alone for the time being.

"He's Walt's brother….but not. It's complicated."

She actually gave a tiny smile at that. She got up, went back to the bed and sat back on it, playing with the dreamcatcher again.

"Walt almost rolled that truck of his once. Flipped it on the passenger side and rode with it while it slid across a field. Wrecked the whole side of it. Ended up stuck in his seat by the seatbelt. He had to use his knife to cut himself free. When he did, he landed, hard, and had to climb out of the truck through the driver's side window. All he got out of it was some glass embedded in the back of his hand, more stitches and another scar to add to his collection."

She was smiling softly now, recalling that time. Talking about Walt seemed to have a calming effect on her.

"Do you know that at our hospital in Durant they keep extra suturing on hand just for Walt? He pretty well has his own first-aid room there. If he doesn't show up there at least once a month, they call to make sure he's alright."

"You're kidding me!"

I thought I'd have to force a smile, but it actually came pretty easy. Maybe it was just the glow in Vic's eyes as she talked about Walt that helped. She seemed to light right up.

"Well, maybe, but just a little. EVERYONE at the hospital knows him. He just passes through the door, straight to the first aid room, bleeding all over the damn place!"

"Has he ever…has he been in a situation like this before?" I asked. She shook her head, swiping at the tears again with one hand. The other hand clutched the dreamcatcher.

"Not like this….almost froze to death once. That was close…Got smacked in the side of the head with a rifle by some crazy Indian guy on horseback another time. Almost knocked him out but he hung on. Ended up killing the guy. Stabbed him when he jumped off his horse and landed on him…"

"Walt's a tough old son, isn't he?" I didn't know what else to say. She was finding it hard to hold back her tears.

"Yeah, well most times it's just another day in the life of Walt….but this time….it's all so unreal, y'know? Just driving home and _this_ happens?"

She jumped off the bed to begin pacing again. She staggered a bit. I went to her, grabbed her to steady her and then got ready to duck. Nothing happened.

"Are you okay?" I asked, thinking what a stupid question that was, but it came out anyway. She held on to me for a moment.

"No…" and that one word, the fresh tears in her eyes, the way her voice shook, the pain and the fear in her eyes nearly undid me.

I went to take her in my arms, to hug her…and she looked at me as if to say 'what the heck are you doing, buddy?' Of course, she wouldn't have said it quite like that! Apparently, even in her grief, Vic Moretti wasn't open to being held by just anyone. Touching her was iffy, grabbing her, worse…yeah, just ask my poor nose.

I honestly didn't know what to do. I wanted to hug her, comfort her; that's the way I was made when it came to crying women. They usually seemed to take it for what it was; an act of caring and concern. This Vic, she'd sooner haul off and hit me than let me hug her; I got that, but what was I supposed to do?

The answer to that question came bursting through the door. A tall Native fellow, older, short dark hair, eyes like flint, darting around the room. Mouth in a grim line. He looked like stone. His dark eyebrows drew together when he saw me first and then he looked like thunder. Thankfully, he saw Vic in the next instant and she saw him.

"Henry!"

She practically threw herself at him. He caught her like it was nothing. She threw her arms around him and he wrapped her up tight in his. She gave in to her tears and he murmured soft words to her. His face had softened, but he kept a wary eye on me.

Was this the 'Henry' Vic had mentioned, the one who was Walt's brother but wasn't? The lack of family resemblance sure gave that away! Yeah, 'complicated' was a good way to describe all this, for sure! And to think that before all this, I thought Walt was a simple man, living a simple little life down there in Absaroka County. Was that impression ever wrong!

Vic was….I don't even know what she was. A terror, a keg of dynamite with a lit fuse. A mass of conflicting adjectives I couldn't even begin to list off. Foul-mouthed but so very beautiful. A temper like a rattlesnake, a killer right hook…and a vulnerability about her that could cancel out the rest of it. At least I hadn't been crazy enough to imagine Walt taming her, but her taming Walt? Talk about being out in left field on that one!

No way a tame man could handle a spit-fire like Vic! To be attracted to her, he must've seen something in her that spoke to him, aside from her obvious good looks. He had a fire in him. I'd seen it when we'd made the arrests in our case. Not out of control, but barely controlled. Fire seeks fire, right? Yeah, Vic hadn't tamed him. Tempered him maybe and he probably did the same for her. I honestly couldn't imagine the two of them together. Not because it was impossible, but just because it would have to be intense! I was imagining them together anyway and had to shake my head. Think about something else.

Henry, this Cheyenne man, obviously so very close to Walt; brothers in a whole other way. There was a spark in his eyes that I couldn't miss. He was controlled, though. I felt it. And he was close to Vic, too. No one else could've held her the way he was. Branch had tried, but Vic lashed out of him. No one else, except Walt. It would take a big man to hold a woman like her and keep on holding her. I wanted to see that sight. I wanted to see the two of them together to find out if I was right about them. I thought I knew Walt. Not well, certainly, but I thought I had him figured out in the time we'd spent together. Boy, how wrong was I? I didn't know Walt at all… I wanted to be him, I admired him and I truly did care about him, but know him? No, sure didn't…but I wanted the chance to get to.

And then, there was Branch, the walking wounded. Stories in his eyes that made me curious to find out more about him and then there was Absaroka County itself! Wow! Strangely, all this kind of made me want to go see the place even more. Maybe Vic had given me a slight concussion with that punch of hers; whatever, I was getting thoughts in my head. Strange thoughts, maybe, but they were there. Depending on how this all turned out, I had some ideas of how I could help out. I'd have to call Jack, though…

These people, Henry, Walt's friend/brother, Branch, Walt's colleague and Vic, Walt's lover, I wanted to get to know them, too. I wanted them to get to know me, in better days, better times. I wanted them to think of me as someone other than the bearer of bad news, someone who might just have deserved that punch in the face, someone who was an interloper. Those better days lay ahead, right? I wanted to be sure that they did, but in all honestly, I wasn't. My last image of Walt still haunted me…

"How did you - ? Do you know what happened?"

Vic had found her voice again. She'd pulled herself away, just a little and was looking up at Henry.

"I attempted to call the house, then your cell phone. I was feeling uneasy, worried about you, about Walt. When I could not reach you, I called the station. Ruby filled me in on what had happened, where you were. I came as fast as I could, Vic…"

What a voice he had and the way he spoke! No contractions? Weird...but melodic almost.

"I don't know anything, Henry, except that it's not good! I kind of lost it when I got here. They had to…they had to sedate me…and I still don't know how he is!"

"I know that he is still in surgery, but no more than that. I am so very sorry, Vic…"

He held her again, looking over her shoulder at me.

"And you are?" he asked pointedly.

"Tracy McKay. Walt…he was here, working with me…" Please, don't look at me like that! I felt bad enough already.

"Look, I'm gonna step outside, see if I can find out anything, okay?"

I really wanted to get out of the room. It didn't feel big enough for the three of us. I didn't belong in here with them.

"Do that," Henry told me, nodding at me. "If you hear some news, anything – "

"You'll be the first one to know, trust me!"

I hightailed it out of there, went to the desk. No news. That was supposed to be good news, right? Oh, Lord, please let it be so! I wasn't going to go back to the room so I headed for the waiting room. Surprisingly, it was empty. I dropped in to a chair. How many hours had it been now? Too many!

I leaned forward, rested my elbows on my knees and put my head in my hands. I really should call Jack, but somehow, I didn't feel like I had the energy to even fish my cell phone out of my pocket. I'd do it in a minute, just one minute…I closed my eyes and Henry's dark eyes looking at me were all I could see. Did he blame me? I couldn't be sure. My nose was killing me, my head starting to ache…

I took a deep breath, let it out, opened my eyes, sat back and there was Branch. He was holding a bouquet of red and white roses that looked a little beat up.

"Any word?" he asked.

I shook my head.

"Are those for Vic?" I asked, pointing to the flowers. He could've picked some nicer looking ones.

"I guess so. I found them in Walt's truck, along with this," and he held up a silver wrapped box with a small red bow on it, about the size of a deck of cards, only deeper. That explained the flowers. The present? That just made me sad.

"A Valentine's Day present, I guess…How is Vic?"

"They admitted her for observation. Want to run some tests on her but she won't let them. Some guy named Henry's with her right now."

I just kept staring at the flowers, at the present.

"Henry's here?"

"Yup….Where's Ellis?" I asked, not particularly caring, but asking anyway.

"He should be here in a minute. Just stopped by at the station to drop off Walt's rifle. He wouldn't let met take it. Probably doesn't trust me not to use it..."

Branch was looking at the present and the flowers, the way I was. It really was sad. Almost heartbreaking in light of what had happened and where we were.

"What am I supposed to do with these things?" he asked softly. "I don't know if I should give them to Vic or not. If Walt…if he doesn't make it…"

"I don't know, Branch. I don't know what to think about anything anymore, but I do know we can't give up hope, right?"

"Not much else we can do."

Ellis came in then, a paper bag in one hand and a cardboard holder with three take-out coffee cups, balanced precariously.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"We're doing what cops do best," I told him. "We're waiting…."

"Good thing I brought coffee and donuts, then," he replied. He said it seriously enough, not even aware of what he'd done. Branch and I looked at each other. Don't think we honestly meant to, but we both grinned. We laughed, in fact.

"Good thing I've got this," and Branch produced a flask from his inside pocket after setting the flowers down on a chair. Yes, a very good thing, as I needed a coffee and a drink! We all did. Maybe even a donut, too.

Yeah, this really was one wild, crazy, nightmare of a night and just how was it all going to turn out and when were we going to know? I took a sip of my doctored coffee, held out my hand for that flask of Branch's, added a little more, took another sip. Better. I was half-tempted just to take a swallow straight from the flask, but no, not now. Not yet. Branch went ahead and did it for me, though. Didn't blame him one little bit. Waiting was always the hardest thing to do. Wondering...well, that might even be worse...

.


	8. Chapter 8

**So, here's Chapter 8! Hope it rings true, that I haven't rushed it or ruined it. Some things just have to happen before we can get back to Walt...and I really, really want to get back to Walt! I'm excited about chapter 9, but I tried to do this one here proud. Hope you all think so, too. Something about this story just seems to make me write these looong chapters! So much going on...I should mention that I did research all of the medical stuff but when it came to the mention of Walt's 'frisky sperm', yeah, I might just have made that up! Who really knows, right?:):). LOL**

**Chapter 8**

"Vic…did you hit that man that just left here?"

It was an honest question, asked with honest frustration and I honestly didn't want to answer it, but I did, sort of.

"Yeah…"

Henry raised his eyebrows expectantly. Oh, he wanted me to elaborate? How could I? I'd been in such a blind rage, a mad fury. What could I say, that he grabbed me? I honestly barely remembered it…but my hand hurt, so I must have done it. I remembered being mad. I remembered being scared; I still was! I just wanted to go back to burying my face in Henry's shirt and having him hold me, tell me that it was all going to be okay…

I was so glad he'd shown up! Didn't know if I believed one consoling word he'd said to me, but after hearing Tracy's account of Walt's condition when he'd seen him, those words gave me something better to hang on to.

"You need to stop doing those kinds of things, Vic!"

Henry was holding me at arm's length, so burying my face in his chest was going to have to wait. Why couldn't this all just go away? It was too much; I couldn't take it. I'd lost control and I was ashamed, frightened, out of my mind with worry…

…and maybe just plain out of my mind, period!

"Please, don't be mad at me, Henry. All I remember is that he grabbed me and I reacted."

"I am not mad at you, Vic. Just worried about you. You do not look well."

"I'm not!"

I tore myself away from him, angry, frustrated. How the hell was I supposed to look?

Walt! Walt could be dying for all I knew. He could be in that O.R., dying and I was here, waiting to find out! Waiting! I was just no good at this shit! No matter how many times I'd had to do it, I was still just no fucking good at this damn shit!

I began to pace. Back and forth. Back and forth. I could hear my heart pounding in my head. Could feel it under the hand I placed over it.. Would I feel it crack? It felt like it wanted to. I kept my hand there, trying to make sure it didn't!

Back and forth. Back and forth.

"So unfair," I muttered.

"This is all so damn unfair, Henry!" I wasn't muttering anymore; I was yelling.

"I do not even know what to say to that, Vic."

He spread his hands wide and shrugged his shoulders. Somehow, that infuriated me.

"What, no words of wisdom? No spiritual mumbo-jumbo?"

What the hell was wrong with me? Henry was only trying to help and I was being such a first-class bitch! I'd done the same thing to Tracy, to Branch!

Next thing I knew, I was dizzy, feeling faint. Clutching the railing at the foot of the bed. Dry-heaving again and again and forever and ever, amen!

This time, though, there was pain. Deep inside of me. So far down and so sharp, almost as unforgiving as I'd been to anyone who'd tried to help me.

"Henry!" I gasped.

I felt my legs giving out on me. He was already there, had been for some time, holding me, keeping me from hitting the ground. He swung me up and gently placed me on the bed. I couldn't lie flat. I had to draw my knees up, curl in to a fetal position, clutching my lower abdomen.

Oh, menustral cramps and me were good buddies! Painful periods were a cross I had to bear, ever since – No! No, bad enough that one mistake had cost me any kind of maternal future I might have had. I'd almost embraced the fact when I thought how lucky I was that Sean and I had never had kids. I wasn't going to go there, not now, not here…not EVER! It was over, all over.

This was worse than any kind of cramp I'd ever experienced, though. So sharp, so painful, so intense…and then, suddenly, gone. Just like that. Oh shit, I didn't need to get my period now, of all times!

I was sweating. I could feel it. I was breathing like a freight train chugging up a steep hill. Henry, well, he was as close to panic as I'd ever seen him. He'd already rung the bell for the nurse; the call-button cord was still in his hand while he looked down at me, wide-eyed.

"I'm…okay now," I tried to reassure him.

"No, you are not, Vic!"

"I'm just upset, Henry! I'm so worried about him!" and it was true!

Just the thought of what he was going through, _if_ he was going through it, made the tears sting my eyes. I remembered thinking in the car that if I lost it, I'd be gone. I thought it over and over….and now, here I was. I'd lost it and I was gone…

"No, Vic, that is not all it is! You have been like this for weeks now. I thought I knew what it was, but now, I am not so sure..."

"Just stress, Henry. Work and moving and missing Walt."

And still missing Walt. Maybe missing him forever! Don't go there! Do not go there!

Thankfully, the nurse I'd had before came in to the room then. She asked what happened. Henry filled her in while she took my pulse and then my blood pressure. I couldn't read anything on her face, not even when she entered something on her pager. It wasn't long before the same doctor that had admitted me came striding through the door.

"So, Miss Moretti, are you just about ready to consent to those tests?" she asked matter of factly.

"I'm fine," I told her.

"She is not!" Henry contradicted me.

"Well, your friend here seems to have a different opinion from yours. Which one of you should I believe? Ooops, time's up. I'm going with the Indian on this one!"

"You can't do that!" I told her angrily. Just who the hell did she think she was, ignoring me! She leaned over the bed while I was trying to get up. She put her hands on me to hold me still.

"Look, bitch," I tried to warn her, "you can't just come in here and decide who you're going to listen to! I said I was fine!"

"And I say, you're a liar and a bigger bitch than I could ever hope to be, Missy! If you love that guy upstairs, then you better just tone it down a notch and let me take a look at you! If you really care one bit about him, you'll let this nice nurse here poke you, pee in a cup and do whatever else I ask you to do. He's gonna need you when he gets out of there and if that matters just one little bit to you, then you'll lay back down and shut the hell up!"

What? Seriously? She thought she could intimidate ME? She thought she could question how I felt about Walt? Just where the hell did she get off, treating me this way?

Henry leaned down in to my line of sight. Took one of my hands in both of his. Held on tight.

"Please, Vic…for Walt…for you, do as the doctor asks. She only wants to help and you need the help. This is not just stress and worry. Somewhere inside of you, you are begining to know that. This is not normal. Something is wrong…"

"EVERYTHING IS WRONG!"

I yelled it! I screamed it! I meant it! I hated it! I hated everyone! All I wanted was Walt, safe in my arms! All I wanted was to be making love with him right now, in our bed, in our home, in a place where we were both safe and happy! I didn't want to be crying the way I was. I didn't want to see the truth of this whole situation in Henry's eyes. I didn't want to acknowledge that maybe, just maybe there was some truth in his words, as well.

So unfair! So Goddamned unfair! Just when we'd finally gotten together, just when things were going good, when there was so much to look forward to! Maybe it was me that was God-damned!

I couldn't help it anymore. I just dissolved in to a crying, weeping, sobbing mess. That's what I was, what I'd always been; a mess…

"Look, I can help you…This isn't all your fault! There's something going on with you, making all this so much worse. Let me help you, okay?" the doctor piped up.

What did it matter? Poke me, prod me; it was nothing compared to what Walt was going through. I was nothing without Walt…

My acquiescence was my consent. I stopped fighting. For all I knew, there was nothing left to fight for.

"Is he…Is Walt still - ?"

Like an idiot, I had to ask. Still clung to the hope…

"Honestly, honey, if things were not going well upstairs, I'd know about it. I haven't heard anything yet and trust me, that's a good sign! Just worry about yourself now. Let me do my job…"

"Go ahead…"

I didn't care what they did to me. Just do it and get it over with!

"Atta girl! Judy here is going to take some blood and then, if you can, I'd like you to go pee in one of those delightfully small containers she's going to give you."

"Sure thing…"

I was busy staring at the ceiling, pretending I was somewhere else. Barely felt the needle. Barely wobbled on my way to the bathroom. I peed in the damn cup, thinking what a waste of time this all was! What was she going to find out with her tests? It was just my period coming on, that cramp, the irritability, right? I mean, why not? I was miles away from home, completely unprepared for it, so yeah, why not bring it on now? That really would be the icing on this horrible cake! Yeah, stay mad...

I made my way back to the bed. Henry helped me get in. I let him do it. This time, I actually got under the blankets; I was cold and so very, very tired.

"I'm going to make sure the lab puts a rush on those tests," Dr. Hunter informed me. "You just lie there, try to get some rest. Geronimo here can get you anything you might need, right?"

"Certainly, although my name is Henry. I know we all look alike, but I felt you should know the difference, Doctor."

"Not trying to be rude or racist, Henry. It's just been a long shift so far. I apologize."

"You might want to be a little more conscious of the way you speak when you are in this state, but still, I thank you for the apology, Doctor…?"

"Hunter. I really am sorry, Henry. You take care of this girl, okay? I'll be back as soon as I can and Judy's just outside at the desk. You need her, just holler."

"I will, I assure you."

I heard the door open then close softly.

"Henry…?"

"What would you like, Vic?"

"I just…I just want to say I'm sorry. For my behaviour. You've know Walt so much longer than I have. This must be so hard on you…" I was suddenly just too tired to be mad at Henry.

I made myself turn over and face him. He'd pulled up a chair beside my bed and he was smiling that soft smile of his, even with all this going on. The smile didn't reach his eyes this time, though…

"It is true, I have known him longer but, for some strange reason, you love him. I merely tolerate him."

"You're still so full of shit, Henry! I know I told you that just today, yesterday – "

"Every day since you've known me?"

Okay, he was going to make me smile, even if I really didn't want to. I reached out; he took my hand.

"You've always been there for Walt, Henry. Always, through everything…I should've called you right away, but things…well, they kind of got out of control…"

The truth was, I'd gotten out of control! I could've, should've handled things better. I was being anything but professional in this situation and to a certain extent, it was understandable, but what wasn't understandable was the way I kept letting what had happened to me at Chance's compound come over me. I thought that was all behind me, that I'd dealt with it…It had come over me at the cabin when Branch showed up and when I'd been cuffed here….

My control at the best of times was iffy, but now, it seemed totally non-existent! I was swinging from one end of the emotional scale to the other even before Walt's accident, feeling great, so happy one minute and then crying the next. Feeling that I deserved to be happy with Walt and then not being sure that I deserved ANYTHING!

Why the hell couldn't my past just fuck off and die? Where was that absolution I'd been so sure of before all of this had happened? If only none of this had happened. If only Walt had just ended up coming home to me…but maybe it wasn't me he was supposed to come home to.

"Henry?"

"Yes?"

"What if…" I hated to voice my thoughts, but I had to.

"What if I'm not the one for Walt? What if us being together is somehow…wrong?"

He squeezed my hand, almost to the point of hurting.

"Vic…Victoria, you have to stop doing this! We just finshed talking about all this today, before we ended up here, before all this happened. What you are feeling now, it is not the way things are! It is just shock…and perhaps more…"

I wanted to believe him; somewhere inside of me, I did! But these doubts, they seemed to fill me the way they had before. And that meltdown when I'd been cuffed – I thought all that was over!

"Tell me what happened, Vic, after you got here. Then, tell me what happened…to Walt…if you can…"

Poor Henry! How selfish was I being? He'd come here and no one had told him what exactly had happened. He might joke about tolerating Walt, but I saw the worry, the fear, the love in his eyes.

So, I told him. I told him everything I knew and by the end of it, I was crying again. Not out of control this time. Just tears running down my face while I held Henry's hand. Just tears glistening in his eyes while he listened to me. Just a tear that fell and ran down his cheek…

"I'm so sorry, Henry…"

"I…" he wiped at his eyes, "I am sorry, too…

A sudden thought hit me.

"Cady! What about Cady? I left my cell phone at home! We have to call her! But what do we say, what do I say?"

"I...uh, I called her…I told her that Walt was in an accident. That is all I knew at the time. I thought she should know…"

Cady was in Vail, Colorado, on a ski trip with friends. She'd only left yesterday.

"Is she coming here?"

"Most of the airports in Colorado are shut down. The storm moved that way. I told her I would let her know what was going on. I told her to stay there, not to worry…"

"So, she can't get here?"

"No…but she does not know how bad things are. She will be expecting me to call her, though."

"What are you going to tell her?"

"I…do not know…"

Henry wiped at his eyes again and ran a hand through his hair.

"Right now, we have you to deal with! These flashbacks…when did they start again?"

"Henry, this can wait. It's nothing compared to what's going on. I'm just tired, worried out of my mind, the way you are. All I can think about is what's going on with Walt."

"And what can we do about that, Vic? All the worrying, all the stressing, all the tears…they will not change what will be. _Ma'heo'o_ watches over him now while the doctors work on him. All we can do is trust and believe that he will stay here with us. We can pray and we can will him to stay, but that is all we can do!"

"What about…what about what Walt did when Cady was in the hospital? He made a sacrifice…"

"He told you about that?"

"He's got the scars on his chest, Henry! I saw them, I've touched them, asked him about them. He told me. Can't we…can't I do the same kind of thing? Anything?"

Henry grew quiet. Looked down at the floor for a moment. Looked at me, looked down my body. Squeezed my hand. Then he met my questioning eyes with his dark ones, sad ones.

"If _Ma'heo'o_ wants a sacrifice, then He will take one…"

There was something in his eyes that scared me. Anger mixed with sadness.

"What does that mean?"

Before he could answer, the door opened. Some kind of equipment preceded Dr. Hunter in to the room. She was pushing a cart. What the hell?

"I've got your test results back," she began. "Your stress levels are off the scale, girl! Some of that's to be expected, given the circumstances, but given your profession, if you couldn't handle stress, you would never had made it as a cop. Sheriff McKay told me there's a chance you might be suffering from PTSD. Any truth to that?"

I was just about to ask her how the hell he would know that when I remembered Branch. He was there for the whole show and I guess it made sense he might have said something to Tracy. Okay, I wasn't going to get mad about it. Branch had done what he'd thought was best. Had done whatever it had taken to get those cuffs off me. Now, just how much was I going to share with this doctor?

She seemed to take my silence as reluctance to talk about it all with Henry in the room.

"Would you mind leaving us alone, Henry?" she asked.

"No!" I told her. I held on to Henry's hand.

"He stays. He knows all about it. He's Walt's best friend, my friend, too…"

"Alright then. He stays. Now, you tell me what happened to you."

I did. Couldn't believe that I did, but yes, I did. Maybe not every detail, but the general overview of all that had gone on there. I told her about the counselling, too. Maybe being open with her was a way of making things right with the world, with the Universe, with _Ma'heo'o_. Was this my sacrifice? It felt like it, but I'd do anything to save Walt, just as I thought I was that night I drove back to Chance's place…

Dr. Hunter had taken a seat on the end of my bed while I spoke, writing notes in a file.

"Okay, that explains a lot…and I thank you for being honest with me about this. PTSD is not one of my specialties, but with the state of the world these days, it's something nearly every doctor has seen and dealt with. You might just need a little more help dealing with this, Ms. Moretti and I would suggest you go back for more therapy."

"Please…call me Vic."

Did I actually say that?

"Okay, Vic…as far as that goes, I can't do much more for you here. I can prescribe something for you if you feel you need it, something to keep you calm, for now…"

"That's it? That's all this was?"

"It's one thing, for sure…as for the rest of your test results…I'd like to do an ultrasound on you. You've got some other elevated levels that I'd like to investigate a little further."

"What levels? What are you talking about?"

Henry squeezed my hand again. I heard the sharp edge to my words. I felt a flutter of panic in my chest.

"Have you been feeling unusually tired? Nauseous? Irritable? Emotional?"

"Yeah, but…that's how I felt after…after everything that happened…You said I was stressed!"

"You definitely are that, Vic, but like I said, some of your other tests were a bit off, so I'd like to rule out a few things before I go with a definitive diagnosis, if that's okay with you?"

"This ultrasound test…How long will it take? If Walt comes out of surgery – "

"I don't think you have to worry about that."

"What? What does that mean? What are you saying? He's not coming out?"

Not so calm anymore. Not so nice!

"Vic!"

This time it was Henry.

"The doctor is not implying anything like that! With his injuries, you cannot expect Walt to be out of surgery any time soon…and even if he were, he will be out of it for a while, right, Doctor?"

"Henry's right and I never meant to upset you, Vic. I only meant, we've got time. This won't take long, I promise. I only want to do what I think is best for you. I'm not here to hurt you or harm you in any way. Trust me. Trust that I know what I'm doing. I'm really good at this," and she smiled when she said that last bit.

I looked at Henry. He nodded solemnly.

"Okay…do the test. Get it over with!"

And that's just what she did, warning me about how cold the jelly would be and like all doctors, the warning came just as she applied it!

She ran the wand in her hand over my lower abdomen, to just up under my ribcage, around in ever widening circles, her eyes on the monitor. Like someone with a metal detector, seeking buried treasure, she ran it back and forth, up and down until she seemed to strike paydirt.

She peered intently at the screen, pushed some buttons, pursed her lips together for a moment and then removed the wand from my skin and proceeded to wipe the jelly off me, getting to her feet.

"When was your last period, Vic?"

"Um…" I had to think about that one…My mind had been so foggy before all this and now, well, it was pure mush!

"Just around Christmas…the twenty-fourth, twenty-fifth, I think…"

"So…you've missed one since then?"

No! It was only the…it was the fourteenth of February! Alright, I was late. Not like that hadn't happened before. I knew what she was thinking…

"Yeah, I'm a little late, but there's been stuff going on at work, at home…No big deal."

"Well, this little machine and your blood tests tell me that you're pregnant, Vic. Your increased hormone levels might just have triggered some of those flashbacks, too."

I actually laughed! I'd stopped listening after 'you're pregnant'. Okay, the world had officially gone bat-shit crazy!

"Then you better get that machine fixed and kick someone's ass in that lab! There's no way on earth I can be pregnant!"

"I beg to differ."

"Beg all you want! THERE IS NO WAY I'M PREGNANT!"

"Well, you sound pretty sure about that. Any reason why you're throwing my years of med school down the toilet?"

I sat up. I thought about it. Obviously, not enough because the words just spilled out of me.

"Look, when I was eighteen I got myself knocked-up! My oh, so Catholic mother was not impressed! She did the honourable thing, she took me to get an abortion! It wasn't the nicest place, y'know? One of those seedy back-door joints. I ended up with a damn infection. I ignored it until I couldn't take it anymore. By then, it was too late! Said infection rendered me sterile as I later found out! Not one, but two doctors told me this and so I didn't worry much about birth control after that! Never got pregnant again, either. Got checked again when I met and married my now ex-husband. Sterile! No babies! CAN'T GET PREGNANT!"

I was furious! I was shaking! I hated having to go back there, to bring it all up again. Just today, that long ago today, I was laying in the tub, regretting this foolish moment, this one mistake that made even dreaming about having a baby with Walt nothing more than a sheer fantasy…and now, here was this woman, this doctor, telling me I was pregnant! Oh, shit! How could this day keep getting worse? Honestly, I was thinking she was going to tell me I had cancer, but pregnant?

Good God, I was pretty sure my period was just waiting in the wings and again, why not? Here I was, miles from home. I sure wasn't going to leave the hospital to get me some tampons, but hey, why not send Henry out to get them for me? I mean, here he was, listening to all this! He didn't look too uncomfortable…but just wait until I asked him to go to the drugstore for me!. Poor Henry….Walt was the only other person who knew about this; I'd never even told Sean the truth…and now, Henry knew! Oh, for fuck's sake, why not?

I actually started laughing again.

"Most women don't laugh when I tell them they're pregnant, at least not the way you're laughing…"and she just stood there, unfazed by my outburst.

"I guess most of them don't think you're full of bullshit, then!" Take that, I thought.

"Vic…" Henry warned me.

"No, she's wrong, Henry! As wrong as all of this is" and I indicated the room, the hospital at large, with a sweep of my arm.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, sweetheart, but I've got some tests here that tell me differently." She waved the file in front of my face. I grabbed it out of her hand. She didn't move to take it back from me. She just crossed her arms over her chest and gave an indulgent smile.

"Would you like me to explain what all those numbers mean?" she asked smugly.

"I have a background in forensics; I know how to read blood tests!" I snapped, my attention focused on the print-out in my hand.

"Well, that's gonna make my job easier," she quipped, sounding maybe just a little impressed while sounding slightly amused at the same time.

I read the results again and again…and again.

"No fucking way!" I exploded.

I threw the results on the bed. I knew what I'd seen, what I'd read, but these were not MY test results. Whomever they belonged to, yes, all signs indicated a positive pregnancy, but that 'whomever' WAS NOT ME!

Dr. Hunter was looking down at me, head tilted to one side, arms still crossed.

"Shit happens," was her pronouncement.

"Not to me, it doesn't…not this kind of shit!"

I meant to yell it, but instead, it all came out quietly. I sounded like I'd been hit on the head, dazed, confused. Shocked beyond belief. How the hell could this have happened?

"Vic…"

Henry had to call me at least three times to drag me back from that incredulous state I suddenly found myself drowning in. I blinked, to focus on his face. He was leaning close to me.

"I…when I was with you today…I felt something. Do you remember that word I said?"

"I…yes" I managed to get out, "but please, don't ask me to pronounce it right now, okay?"

"I said _me'ese votse._ That is the word for 'baby' in the Cheyenne language. I felt it. It's true, you are pregnant…"

"Henry?"…but he didn't have the answers I was looking for. I turned my attention to Dr. Hunter.

"This is impossible," I began. "How…? I mean…how did this happen? There was a time I tried to have a baby. It never happened. I gave up. It never happened. I accepted it…and now?"

Dr. Hunter sat back down and took my other hand in one of hers.

"I don't blame you for disbelieving this, Vic, not after what you'd been told. Just how much of your condition do you know or understand? Did anyone ever take the time to explain it to you?"

"No…not really. I honestly didn't care much…"

"Well, let me help you to understand 'how' this happened, okay? I'm sure you understand basic biology, the monthly cycle, yadda, yadda, yadda…"

I nodded.

"Well, you still produce eggs, they just can't get through the blockage in your fallopian tubes. The infection caused the blockage, I'm pretty sure about that. You got pregnant that first time, then nothing after, so it makes sense. So, the egg drops, but stays in the tube. No fertilization takes place, so you go ahead and have your period."

"Fine, I get that…but what happened this time? Why this time?"

"Most sperm are pretty stupid and quite frankly, lazy and useless. They don't like to put a lot of effort in to their part of the job. Only a few get to where they're supposed to be. Maybe, up until now, you've been with men who had low sperm counts, low sperm mobility, that sort of thing. This time around, chances are you were with someone who's sperm had a little more spunk, excuse the pun…I was told you're Walt Longmire's 'significant other'?"

…and again I nodded. I nodded and thought about all the times Walt and I had had sex since that first night. Even during that first night. I knew it only took once; that had been the case when I was eighteen. Still, we'd done it again and again and again, never having any reason to expect this would happen. That first night, yeah, Walt hadn't known about my condition and that had been quite the scene when he came to realize we'd done nothing to keep me from getting pregnant, but after….after I'd explained it all to him, we never worried about it again.

"So, you're telling me that it's all because of Walt and his…frisky little sperm that this somehow happened?"

Despite the seriousness of this whole thing, I did hear Henry snicker. When I glanced at him, he was just reeling in his little smile.

"There could be many contributing factors, but it wouldn't surprise me if he had something to do with it."

"Never mention that I said this," Henry piped up, "but I do not doubt it had something to do with it being Walt. I do believe he might just be a walking testosterone factory!"

"One of those 'manly' men, is he?" Dr. Hunter smirked.

I barely heard the banter going on around me. I was still dazed, still floored, but I felt a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth; as unreal as it seemed, I was going to have Walt's baby!

I wasn't the only one who was going to be shocked by the news! Then, I heard him telling me after that first night that he didn't want any more children; he felt he'd been a disaster as a father. Raising Cady hadn't been easy on him…or kind. But then again, I wasn't Martha and things between us were not like they had been between Walt and her.

Would I be a good mom? Did I know how to be? Was I ready for this? I suddenly didn't feel like smiling anymore. Henry, on the other hand, was positively beaming!

"It can't be, Henry…this is…this is just some kind of…nightmare…some kind of crazy dream…

Oh, my God! What was I going to tell Walt if – NO, _when_ he woke up? This wasn't supposed to happen! I swore to him it wouldn't happen! Jesus Christ, it turns out I'd lied to him and while I may have done that a time or two over trivial matters, this was not trivial! This was HUGE!

"Walt doesn't want any more kids…and me?" I pulled my hands out of the opposing grasps and ran them through my hair.

"What the hell kind of mother would I be? I can barely take care of myself, let alone a baby…What do I say to him when he wakes up? 'Gee, Walt, guess who's gonna be a daddy'? There's no guarantee he's going to wake up, either…and if he doesn't, then what? I'm left alone, pregnant? If I had a choice, I'd pick – "

"You cannot say that, Vic!" Henry told me. "Walt will wake up! When he does and you tell him this news, he will be delighted!"

"I honestly don't think he will be, Henry! He was adamant; no more kids…and I don't blame him. You of all people know what his first time around being a dad was like! You're thrilled, but Walt won't be…You know that! If he wakes up, I can't tell him, not yet…"

"You're not going to have to worry about telling him, Vic…"

Dr. Hunter actually looked away from me. Both Henry and I looked hard at her, though. She was fiddling with my file, for the first time looking very uncomfortable. All I could think was that she knew something about Walt that she hadn't shared with me, with Henry!

I grabbed one of her hands, made her look at me.

"You said Walt was still in surgery! You said you didn't know any more than that!"

Panic had flooded me the moment she made that cryptic remark. I squeezed her hand, hard. She winced and tried to pull free. I held on.

"Tell me what you mean! Tell me what you know!"

"It's not Walt, it has nothing to do with him, Vic. It's your condition…"

No time to feel any kind of relief.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

One fucking thing after another! I felt like I was caught in an emotional whirlpool with no way out. No strength left to even try fighting my way out!

"It's not a viable pregnancy…"

What? I let go of her hand to wave my own around.

"What the hell does that mean? You waltz in here, tell me I'm pregnant, which fucking blows my mind on a night when my mind's already been blown to hell and back and now you tell me it's not viable? Honest to God, I cannot take much more of this shit, okay? _You're_ not going to be viable in about two seconds if you don't tell me _exactly_ what's going on and you better fuckin' tell me _now!_"

Dr. Hunter raised one fine eyebrow and looked down at me. 'Lorded'over me, or so it seemed.

"Number one, Missy…how the hell was I supposed to know your history and number two, YOU never gave me a FUCKING chance to open my mouth! Now, I realize you're upset, about so many things, and I don't blame you for being that way, but little girl, if you don't shut the hell up for one second, you're going to be fighting for your life, just like your sweetheart upstairs is right now!"

Ooo, I wanted to smack her a good one! I wanted to slap her right back in to yesterday!

"There's nothing I can do for him, but you…I can take care of this before things get… complicated."

We glared at each other.

"Let it go, Vic…"

Henry knew how ready I was to react with my hands

"Take a deep breath and just…listen to what the doctor has to say. Please, just once, control yourself!"

Maybe Henry needed a smack, too!

It hit me then, just what a horrible thought that was to have about Henry! What had he EVER done to me that would make me want to hit him? Nothing, absolutely nothing! And the doctor…she'd been good to me. She was right about me just reacting and running my mouth off! She forgave me, overlooked it all…well, most of it, anyway…

Couldn't really blame her for being pissed at me now, but in my own defense, I seriously was reeling! I was breathing heavy,_ trying_ to control myself!

"Do you…would you like something to calm you down?" Dr. Hunter asked, concerned despite the way I'd treated her. Well, it's what she got paid for, right? No, that wasn't fair...

I just shook my head; didn't trust myself to speak. In the state I was in, I didn't trust myself not to tell her to just go to hell and leave me alone…or worse!

She took my hand again. I let her. She turned the monitor on the machine slightly towards me.

"I want you to see this, so you can understand what I'm about to tell you, okay?"

I nodded, again. I clamped my mouth shut and willed the tears back. Control!

"Now, you might know a lot about forensics, but obstetrics is MY specialty here in this hospital. Emergency obstetrics to be more precise, although I do run a general practise as well. Take a look at this…"

She pointed to something on the monitor.

"Normally, once an egg is fertilized, it will attach itself to the wall of a woman's uterus. You sure you want to stick around for this, Henry? Most men don't like hearing about 'woman' parts."

"I am not most men. I do not have a problem with this, as long as Vic does not mind."

I nodded; he could stay. Dr. Hunter gave what sounded like a surprised grunt. She turned the monitor a little more so Henry could see.

"This is your uterus" she continued, "and there's nothing there….but your blood tests practically scream positive and your hCG levels are seriously elevated, so I took a good look around with this handy-dandy machine, and there, at the top? – that's one of your fallopian tubes. The other one is just over here…"

I looked where she pointed to. She moved her finger from one side to the other over the screen.

"Do you see the difference?" she asked.

"No…"

I really didn't. It was all just black and white to me! Walt, he was good with this kind of shit, reading x-rays and such, but then again, he had a lot of experience looking at his own! Doc Weston always showed Walt his x-rays, kind of like a hint to maybe not get himself banged up so damn much! And when it came to autopsies and Doc Bloomfield, well, those two just couldn't get enough of looking at gross pictures! All in the line of duty, Walt would say…

Oh, Walt…God, how I needed him here with me right now!

Buck up, girl, be strong! THAT'S what Walt needed me to do, to be…and so, I would, for him. Always for him. I'd been doing a piss-poor job of it so far, but now…now, I'd be strong. I'd try!

"I don't see anything!"

"Okay, that's alright…takes years of schooling to decipher this stuff," and she patted my hand. She was trying to be nice…and I was trying not to be ME!

"In each of your tubes, there's significant scarring, probably from that infection you had. Those are these little marks here."

Okay…

"But see this shape here, in the right one? It's this lighter shade of pale, so to speak…"

Okay, there was _something_ there! Something that wasn't in the other one; that's all I knew!

"That's the embryo…"

Not 'the baby'. The 'embryo'. Nice and clinical. All I could do was look at her, my own eyebrows raised in question.

"There's nothing there to sustain it…but, it will continue to grow. There's no room there. Sooner than later, your fallopian tube will burst and could cause internal bleeding. If that happens, then it's _your_ life at risk."

"Can't it be transplanted, moved to where it belongs?"

Yeah, 'it' was my way of being clinical and somehow, my way of hoping against hope.

Dr. Hunter shook her head. How did I know she would?

"There really is no way to save your ba.. embryo. It's what's called an ectopic pregnancy. Very rare in most cases, but in yours? Well, the risks are a great deal higher because of the scarring…"

No way to save 'it'. No way to save my…my 'baby'. Our baby. Walt's baby….

How the hell was I supposed to 'control' the emotions that were flooding me? How was I supposed to control myself when Henry shot to his feet and started pacing, a scowl on his normally cheerful face? How was I supposed to control myself when Dr. Hunter was looking at me with the truth so clear in her hazel eyes?

Oh, fuck! I just wanted to pass out and wake up back at the cabin, back with Walt before this damn trip of his to Montana! I wanted to scream and scream and scream until I died! I wanted to - ! A sudden thought hit me.

Apparently, a thought had just hit Dr. Hunter as well.

"Have you been experiencing any type of bleeding, Vic? Any pain in your abdomen?"

"Just some pain…just today."

While she talked and I answered, I thought. I tried to get Henry's attention, but he was too busy pacing. My thoughts helped me gain some control…

"Okay, we caught this early on," Dr. Hunter continued. "You're maybe five, six weeks along. We still have time for options."

"Options?" I asked.

Funny, I was thinking the same thing, but probably not the same way Dr. Hunter was. Why wouldn't Henry look at me? I wanted, I needed to talk to him! Dr. Hunter wanted to talk to me, too and she did just that.

"We can probably treat this with a dose of methotrexate or we can put you under and do a salpingectomy, removal of your tubes. That might be the best thing for you because, Vic, this will just keep happening. Unfortunately, without something like invitro fertilization, it's going to be impossible for you to have a normal pregnancy…"

Put me under, without knowing what was happening to Walt? THAT was NOT an option I was willing to even think about! The rest of what she'd said? I didn't care! I couldn't care, I wouldn't care! I'd gone this long thinking I'd never have a baby, so why change all that now? Why explore those options?

"No surgery!" and I made sure she knew how adamant I was about_ that_!

"I can't guarantee that won't happen, Vic. The body can absorb the embryo, but you're already experiencing some pain, so I strongly suggest we try the methotrexate first. I have to warn you though; it may not work. We're going to have to monitor your hCG levels closely for the next two to six weeks, or rather, your own doctor will have to. If it doesn't work, then surgery is the only option. If you don't mind the drive, I'd be more than happy to take you on as a patient for this particular case so you won't have to go through all this again."

Nice of her to offer, it really was, but I couldn't see past this night, this moment…

"Sure, whatever…Just no surgery right now, okay?"

"No guarantees, remember?"

She looked hard at me, to make sure I understood what she'd said so far.

"Let's go with the drug…"

"Alright, we'll give it a try. If it does work, you're going to have to start using some form of birth control to make sure this doesn't happen again. I'd suggest the Pill as it's still one of the most effective methods around, and in time, you can consider having your tubes removed. That's what I'd recommend to save you more heartache like this. That all supposes that you and the extraordinarly virile Walt Longmire really don't want to have kids. If the drug works, it buys you time to discuss it with him, but as I said, invitro fertilization would be your only option when it comes to that."

Yeah, sure, Walt and I were just going to sit down and discuss whether or not we wanted to spend thousands of dollars to have a baby! It was just a normal day, right? I'd just waltz up to the O.R. and get Walt's opinion on all this! Sure, let's all act like that future was going to happen!

The future….

Walt's future was still uncertain as far as I was concerned and without Walt, there sure wasn't any future for me, not one I wanted to envision, anyway!

But for the first time, I felt a slight glimmer of hope…

"I'll go get you that injection and we'll keep our fingers crossed, okay, Vic?"

I forced a smile.

"Yeah, sure…great!"

Just before she reached the door, I called her name. I said something that I truly meant.

"Thank you…for all you've done, for making sense of some of what's being going on with me. For making me see that I'm not quite losing my mind. That there's a reason I feel so…'unprofessionally' emotional. Sure, I'm a bitch, but not quite a nut-case, really."

"Hey, Vic…it's okay, really. I'm just glad I caught this before, well, before it had gone too far. Those other things we talked about? Make sure you go talk to someone, get yourself better in all ways. You've been through hell and back, girl…and you're there again, now. Your hormones being all out of whack might have more to do with those flashbacks, as I said, but still, go see someone when you can. And that guy upstairs, you love him, you're worried and you're scared. That part's normal. Just try to have some faith, okay? I'll go get that shot now. Why don't you try to eat that rather wilted looking cafeteria sandwich? You need to keep up your strength."

I smiled. She left. Screw the sandwich! I was thinking about having faith. I had to, or lose it and now, maybe there was a real reason to hope!

As soon as the door closed, I called Henry. He ignored me at first, still pacing, mumbling to himself.

"Henry!"

He finally stopped and looked at me, seeming to come out of fog to do so. Aware again, he was at my side in a flash. He held the dreamcatcher absently in his hands, fiddling with it. It must've flown of the bed when I did, when Henry first came to see me.

"I..I cannot see beyond all this, Vic."

I took the dreamcather from him and set it on the bed. What good was it now? We were already so deep in the nighmare...or maybe not. Maybe that's why Henry had found it just now and picked it up. Maybe it was a sign. Yeah, I was clutching at those straws for sure! I was about to share one of those straws with Henry.

He was back to holding my hand, clutching at it.

"I have been trying to understand all of this but there is no understanding."

"There is, though, Henry, there is!"

"How can you say that, especially you! All of this is – "

"It's my sacrifice!"

"You are not really going to go through with this, are you? What about a second opinion? How do you know this doctor is right? You are not going to go through with this, are you, Vic? You cannot do it!"

"According to the doctor, I don't have any choice, Henry! I know that doesn't make it much of a sacrifice in the usual terms, but maybe how I face it, how I deal with it is. If I willingly give up this baby – "

"It is not just your baby, Vic!"

Oh, he was hurt, angry! He knew it was all true, he just didn't want to face it. I didn't, either, truth be told, but face it I would…and face it strong!

"I can't talk to Walt about this and what would he say even if I could? Henry, I would do anything to save Walt, anything at all! I've made a mess of everything here tonight so far! I lost my control, I lost my mind! I…I behaved badly. This embryo…this baby, it's not meant to be. Not for me, not for Walt. We went forward, never expecting anything like this and that's just the way it's meant to be for us. I can live with it, just as long as Walt lives! That's all I want, Henry! That's all I can hope for, wish for, pray for!"

"But, Vic…" a tear fell from his eye to land on our clasped hands. A tear. A drop of salty moisture, a symbol of emotions breaking loose… Warm at first touch, then turning cold. I felt my own emotions, my own tears waiting to be set loose.

"Henry…you told me once that a warrior is defined by how he or she faces not only life, but Death…and the death of this Life that never really was meant to be is something I'll face with grace, dignity and total acceptance, praying that it's enough to appease _Ma'Heo'o_. I HAVE to believe that if I do this, in a good way, He'll spare Walt. Be satisfied with this one small death and give me back the one thing I love the most in this world. You said if He wanted a sacrifice, He'd take one. Maybe this is it. I'll offer up something of my own. If there's any grieving to be done, I'll do it, with Walt. This is my sacrifice! No tears, no looking back, no regrets. If _Ma'heo'o_ accepts this ,then I'll have Walt back. We'll have each other, the way you said it was always meant to be…"

This time, I wiped Henry's tears away. He just didn't seem to have the strength to do it himself, but I did! Suddenly, I really did!

Henry's eyes were so full of questions, so full of shock, so full or doubt and sorrow. He got to his feet.

"I..I have to go outside, away from this place and all this!" He motioned at the monitor and the room. "I do not want to leave you, though, Vic…"

"It's okay, really. Go. Do what you have to do. I know you're going to pray, but don't be angry, Henry."

"I am! I am so full of anger, Vic! First Walt, now this! Honestly, I never saw any of this happening to either one of you! I truly did see Walt coming home to you, I saw both of you together, happy, a baby growing inside of you! Walt would have been happy, despite what he might have said. I knew that, Vic…but now? Now, I know nothing!"

"You know about bad spirits, Henry. They play tricks on us, they're always out there."

"And this is a very cruel trick! I need to try to make peace with all this! I am deeply sorry, but I do need to get out of here, just for a little while! I will not go far. I will not be long."

How many times could one heart break? Looking at Henry, I felt mine crack one more time. Thinking about the baby that wasn't made it crack again. Thinking about Walt dying, though….if that happened, my heart would shatter and so would I. I'd become nothing more than the wind that moans and cries around the cabin, through the woods, on a cold, stormy winter day…

I told Henry to go. He did. He couldn't get out of the room fast enough. I took a deep breath. I prayed that while the physical sacrifice about to come might just be the way of things, it would be the emotional sacrifice I'd live through that would count in the end.

No matter what, I wouldn't cry. I wouldn't grieve until I could do it with Walt… I swallowed back the tears. I willed myself not to feel anything except hope. I cleared my mind of everything but the image of Walt, alive and well. Walt, beside me, holding my hand. Getting me through all this. Me, beside him, getting him through it. I swear I could feel his hand in my own. Could feel his long fingers curl over mine. Could feel his warmth and his slight roughness. A big hand, a strong hand.

I closed my eyes and there he was.

"You'll get through this, Vic…We'll both get through all of it. We'll make it because we'll always have each other…"

I heard the door open. I kept my eyes shut. If I opened them, Walt would disappear and I didn't want that to happen. In some form, he was right there with me. Did he feel me with him? Did he know how tightly I held his hand?

"I just ran in to your friend, Henry, on his way out. Is he leaving?" Dr. Hunter asked.

"He said he had to get outside….He's upset."

"Yeah, kinda got that feeling when he started spouting off at me in Cheyenne. He didn't know it at the time, but I understood everything he said to me. It basically boiled down to him telling me he was going to come back and scalp me if anything happens to you and if anything happens to Walt, I believe he threatened to come back with the Dog Soldiers and burn this place to the ground. It was either that or he'll come back to set all the doctors on fire….He kind of lost me towards the end there."

"He's really upset. He knew I was pregnant and Walt, well, they're close, like brothers who actually love each other."

"I didn't take offense or take it personally. I told him I couldn't speak for Walt, but that as far as you're concerned, I'll take good care of you. Knocked the wind out of his sails when I answered him back in his own language, though…You said he knew you were pregnant?"

"Yeah, before all this happened. Before we knew about Walt. He was at the cabin and he said it, only I didn't understand him and he didn't elaborate. He just…smiled…"

"Somehow, that just doesn't surprise me much. I thought I heard him say something to you about a baby. He seems to care a great deal about you."

"He does and he doesn't understand any of this any more than I do. That's why he left. He needs to 'see' again, to get rid of his anger. He needs to pray, to find some answers."

"Well, I hope he does. He seems like a nice man and a good friend…but now, Vic, it's time for me and you to do what needs to be done. If you'd be so kind, roll away from me and get ready for a nice shot in your ass. It's gonna hurt, okay?

Dr. Hunter was something else. Walt would like her, I just knew it! I did as she asked, without a word. She pulled Walt's shirt up and my scrub bottoms down. I couldn't help but jump when she gave me the shot. I wanted to yelp, but I didn't. I wouldn't. I'd take the pain. I'd take whatever was to come in silence. Walt was with me…

"There, all done! You can turn over now if you like."

I did it.

"You okay there, girl? I mean, I know you're not, but there's just no other way to deal with this, honey.."

I hardly heard her. I was listening to Walt, that deep, soft rumble of his that I'd know anywhere.

"It's okay, Vic…open your eyes. I'll still be here with you. I'm not going anywhere. I'm never going to leave you…"

Walt's words, saying he'd never leave me. I knew the meaning of those words went beyond the physical. I knew, no matter what, Walt would always be with me….but I couldn't help but hope I'd find him there in the physical. I wasn't ready to face any other possibility, let alone think about it!

I did open my eyes. I still saw him. I still felt him, beside me…

"I'm okay," I told Dr. Hunter.

"Alright then…You probably won't feel much. Maybe an upset stomach, some cramping, but chances are, you'll just feel nothing, physically, at least. Emotionally, well, that's a whole different thing. Would you like me to send someone in to sit with you?"

"No, I'm good, thanks…"

Dr. Hunter sat herself down after a moment of hesitation. She took my hand. She used her other one to push my bangs out of my eyes, then she smoothed my forehead.

"This really isn't much different than actually losing a baby, Vic. I know it was the last thing you ever expected and there really was never any hope, but still, you can cry if you want to. You should cry. It's a loss, no matter what."

"It's a loss I can deal with. Tonight, it really doesn't seem much like a loss, compared to what I could lose, y'know what I mean?"

"You might feel differently about all this come morning. I don't think it will be much longer until you hear something about your man, and then - "

"Then I'll just have to wait until I do. I can't cry, not now. 'An eye for an eye, a life for a life', that's what's going through my head right now and that's what I have to believe in. Right now, this is nothing, not when Walt is my everything."

"He really is your world, isn't he?"

"He saved me. He loved me when I wasn't very loveable. He stood by me. He waited for me. He took me in. He gave me the life I always wanted but never felt I deserved. He gave me himself and that's a gift far greater than any I could ever have hoped for. This baby, it would've been nice, but not what we need to be complete. When we're together, it's all we need. It's all we'll ever need."

"I honestly don't think I could say that about any man I've ever known!"

"I never could've either, until I met Walt. I was lucky enough to find him. I don't need anything else in my life. Just him. Only him…"

"Then I'll pray he makes it through, Vic. I've seen a lot in all my years of medicine, but I can tell you for a fact, there's nothing like the power of love when it comes to miracles and I can see and hear just how much you love this man."

"It isn't any more than he loves me. He'll come back to me. I feel him here right now with me and if he left, I'd feel that too, but I don't. I was hanging on to that before I got here and...lost it."

She kissed my forehead, the way a mother would. The way a mother should. The way I'd always wanted my mother to do.

"Then you hang on to that, Vic. If he loves you the way you love him, then I do believe he's right here with you. Who would want to leave you behind anyway?"

She said that last with a tender smile. Really? She actually looked like she meant it.

"You're a strong woman, Vic. Sure, you've got a big mouth, swear a lot, but underneath it all, you're strangely sweet and appealingly vulnerable, not to mention beautiful! Walt, he just has to pull through, because, honestly, I'm eager to get a look at him!"

I don't know why, but that made me laugh. I couldn't believe that I actually was. Dr. Hunter smiled and leaned in a little closer.

"Is he hot?" she whispered.

"Oh, he's smokin', trust me!"

"Is he, y'know, good in bed?"

That should have shocked me, but really? How could anything really shock me now? Maybe I could shock her, though or maybe, all I could do was speak the truth

"The best!"I told her."Unforgettable. Eager. Inventive. Insatiable!"

It was weird to be talking like this, but I seemed to welcome it. It comforted me in some way to be sharing these things with this woman.

"Well, it's a good thing then that he probably won't be up for sex for a while! I told you you were going to have to use protection from now on and that reminds me of something. I'm going to get you started on the Pill right away. I don't trust Mr. Virile one little bit!"

She took a packet out of the breast pocket of her lab coat and handed it to me.

"You can start taking these right away. It's twenty-three hundred hours now," she said after consulting her watch." If this time's going to work for you as far as taking them at the same time every day, then go ahead and take one now."

That late? It had been that long? Too long! No, stay calm. Stay calm...

"This time should be okay. It's when I usually go to bed," I managed to say, as though we were just talking about the weather.

"Alright, then." She poured me a glass of water from the carafe on the bedside table and handed it to me.

"Start here," she showed me pointing to the rows of pills, "and work from left to right. After the first seven days, you'll be completely protected against getting pregnant and I really don't expect you to have to worry about those first seven days anyway, right?"

I could only smile. I didn't really know why. Just the talk about Walt and sex...

"Seriously, are you kidding me? What are you two, rabbits?"

"Kind of…"

"Oh, for God's sake, Vic! Guess I better grab you some condoms, just in case."

"We'll be good, I promise," and was I really talking like all this was going to end up fine? Was I really sitting here, knowing Walt must have been in surgery for what, five hours, and not freaking out?

Yes, I was! There was hope. I felt it. And there was Walt, holding my hand, smiling that soft smile that made me melt inside. For the first time since his accident, I did feel that everything was going to end well. All I had to do was hold on to that feeling. All I had to do was stay strong.

"That's it! As soon as Sheriff Longmire is out of surgery, I'm going to go pay him a visit, maybe slip something in to his I.V. to turn him off for a while."

"You can't do that," I laughed.

"Oh, I can and I will unless you promise me, no sex for a week!"

"You're talking intercourse, right?"

"Well, duh!"

"Just clarifying, Doc."

"Yeah, don't think I don't see those wheels spinning in your head, Victoria Moretti! I suppose I should've been more specific. I ain't so old that I don't know about other kinds of sex! Good Lord, Almighty! You Wyoming folk sure are a bunch, aren't you? You come in here, turn this hospital upside down and then sit there, smirking at me when I tell you not to have sex for a week! I might just have to get down there myself to see if all the rest of you are this crazy!"

I liked her. I really did. I wasn't really feeling in the mood for sex right now, but talking like I was seemed okay. Normally, that's how I'd be, right? Always wanting Walt, always thinking about him, in that way, and so many others.

I was sure she knew what she was doing, distracting me with her conversation. Making me laugh when I should've been crying. Helping me to be strong, to stay strong. I knew my fair share of psychology, every cop did, but I usually didn't have the patience for it. Dr. Hunter obviously did though, apart from or maybe more specifically when it came to dealing with me. She knew how to keep things calm and she was good at it, very good.

"You come on down and you've got yourself an invitation to dinner. Walt makes one hell of a mean chilli, along with the best corn bread you'll ever have and my tiramisu is pure Heaven!"

"You've got yourself a dinner guest, little lady! And I'm not just saying that, y'know? I'm a terrible cook and am never above mooching a free meal, especially a good one, so be warned."

"I'll look forward to you stopping by, Dr. Hunter. Walt and I, we'll both look forward to it!"

"Hey, we've come to know each other pretty well, I'd say. You can call me Eileen from now on and yes, supper at your place is now on my list of things to do!"

"Alright, Eileen, thank you, for everything. I know what you're doing here. You're keeping me from going off the deep end and that means the world to me right now. And you, _you_ can call me Victoria. I like it when _you_ say it…"

Damn, I was beginning to get misty-eyed.

She sat down again. Opened her arms, inviting me in. I accepted the invitation. It felt so good to be held like this. It was what I needed. Someone to just hold me...

"This has certainly been one God-awful Valentine's Day for you, Victoria. In a way, Walt, he's lucky, he's out of it, but you…You've been through it all tonight."

"Tracy told me he was in pain…" I almost lost it then, but I didn't.

"I'm sure he was...it must've been hell for him, but he's sleeping now. He can't feel anything. You, you're feeling it all, not only for Walt, but for yourself, as well."

She was rubbing my back, lulling me in to a peaceful place where happy endings seemed just around the corner.

"If you like, I could give you something to make you sleep…"

"No! I can't, not until I know that he's okay!"

Just the thought of going to sleep, of missing one moment when news of Walt might arrive, threatened that peaceful place.

Oh, the tears were so close!

I could cry for Walt, couldn't I? Unbelievably, there were still tears left inside of me for him. I wouldn't cry for myself, for the loss I was already going through; that was part of the deal, right? But being held like this, being held the way I always wished my mother would hold me and never did, wasn't. But surely I would be allowed a few tears? Strangely enough, the comfort I was getting from Eileen seemed to be enough. There was warmth in that comfort. There was love and strength.

"Hang in there, Victoria….This night won't last forever. Soon, you'll know what's going on with that man of yours, but I honestly do have a feeling that things are going to be just fine. Better than fine."

She was rubbing my back again and I clung to her.

"You just keep on believing that everything's going to work out. Walt will be okay, good as new. You'll be okay, too, I can promise you that much! From everything I've seen and heard here tonight, it's clear that you and Walt love each other deeply and that counts for more than almost anything else in this world. True and deep love really does conquer all. I've seen it many a time".

She pulled away just a little, to look at me. To tuck my hair behind my ears. To cup my face in her hands. She was like no doctor that I'd ever met before. Most of them were so detached, aloof. I'd be so much worse off if I'd gotten a doctor like that tonight. Hold on to those small blessing, right? I did!

"Be strong now, if that's what you have to do, but if you need to be weak when all this is over, you just let me know. I don't mind giving out hugs and I sure don't mind drying a few tears. I became a doctor to help people, to heal people and there's so much more than medicine when it comes to caring. Victoria, I care about YOU! Such small shoulders and such a heavy load you have to bear right now, but you'll do it. I know you will. You're a fighter, through and through."

Her words meant as much to me as her embrace did. Her words made me think of everyone else that was here for Walt.

Branch, Tracy, Henry.

Reluctantly, I pulled away from her.

"Do I have to stay here, in this bed, in this room?"

"No, you don't. As long as you're feeling fine, you can move around the hospital, but I'd really appreciate it if you didn't up and leave. I need to keep an eye on your hCG levels to make sure the shot worked."

"I'm not going to leave, not without Walt, but there's some people I need to see. Some of them are family to me and they don't need to be worrying about me right now. Walt's what matters…and besides, I have some apologies to make."

"You do what you have to do, Vic, but if you have any pain out of the ordinary, you come to me, okay? I'm not going to let anything more happen to you than already has."

"I will, I promise. I feel okay right now, honestly."

"Good. I should go check on some other patients anyway. Get a nurse to call me, for anything, okay? I'm never that far away."

She gave me one more quick hug and a kiss on the forehead.

"No matter what, I'll be back in a couple of hours to get some more blood from you. If you're not here, I'll find you, so don't worry. You've got enough to deal with, so go deal if that's what you feel you have to do."

"Thank you, so very much! I'm sorry about the way I acted before, the things I said…"

"Don't give any of that a second thought! Just keep looking ahead, girl. Just keep picturing that hot, horny Sheriff of yours and keep feeling him with you."

She got to her feet with a soft smile. I thought about doing the same thing, but not just yet.

I tucked my legs up, sitting Indian-style and drew Walt's shirt so tight around me. This time, I was positive I caught the faint scent of him in the fabric. That scent that was truly his and his alone. Eileen left the room. I should, too, but I just needed a moment. Maybe two or three…

I ran my hands down, over my belly, trying my best to cradle what I couldn't even feel; would never feel.

"Hey, kiddo," I said softly. "Yeah, it's me...I didn't even know you were there and now it's time to say goodbye..."

No tears, Vic!

"I hope I didn't scare you off. I might've been a good mom, but I don't really know that. I guess you're not up to taking the chance, hey? Don't really blame you. If I could've saved you, I would have, I swear! I would've done my best. I would've loved you, I know that.."

I had to swallow down the lump in my throat

"Henry's probably right about your dad, too. He would've loved you. We're just all going to have to believe that there was a good reason for you coming to us and a good reason for you to leave so soon..I have to let go of you with one hand, kiddo and hold the other one out for your dad. I have the feeling you're going to be passing each other, somewhere beyond all this, and when you do, you tell him to come back to me, okay?"

Despite my determination not to cry, I couldn't quite hold back the small tear that fell from my eye. One single tear. One salty drop of moisture. Warm at first, but cooling quickly…One more ache in my heart. I grabbed the dreamcatcher off the bed, holding it in one hand, while still rubbing my abdomen with the other. If a good dream could be caught, then I prayed what I was thinking, what I was about to say, would come true..

"When our time here on this earth is done, we'll come looking for you, I promise! We'll find you, dad's good at that kind of stuff. When you see him this time around though, tell your daddy it's time to come home now. Tell him I love him and I'm waiting for him…"


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's note:**

**Okay, it's been a very long time since I've updated. Nice weather, long days, time spent outdoors; all good reasons to put off my writing, but the truth is, while I know where this story is going to go, I'm having a hard time getting it there. This next chapter has been re-written at least 12 times in an attempt to make it 'right'. Well, I can't spend any more time trying; I'll leave it up to you all to let me know if I got it or not. Thanks for hanging in there with me, for your concern and encouragement and so many wonderful comments. This next chapter may not be great, but it's a step forward. A step in to a place I've only briefly touched in my own life. A trip in to the Land of the Shadows...**

**and for those of you that are interested, the song Walt hears is called "Empowered" by Dave and Steve Gordon. You can find it on youtube.:):). Now, let the journey begin...and what a 'trip' it is! LOL**

**Update October/2016...I know, I know...I'm still working on this, I promise!:)**

**Chapter 9**

I didn't want to see.

I didn't want to hear.

I didn't want to know..

... but I guess that was just too bad for me, because something was happening. The atmosphere around me was changing. There'd been a shift, a subtle change that I couldn't even begin to describe. I had the feeling that THIS was _not_ IT, that I was going somewhere else, somewhere 'beyond'…

The voice calling to me was Henry's, sounding far off now and slightly desperate. The hand holding mine had been his, but it was gone now. The blackness was turning not just lighter, but grey and the grey became a fog all around me. Swirling, dancing, twining. Over me, around me, through me…

I found myself lying face down on damp, packed earth. From everywhere, I heard whispers, all my regrets made audible. Not all the voices were familiar to me but their moans of pain, loss and sorrow matched the way I was feeling. In the darkness, I'd felt Death lurking over my shoulder. Here in this place, I felt Death reign.

As I pushed myself up with my arms, it didn't surprise me much to see a Great Horned owl sitting on the ground beside me. I saw it in all its feathered glory. It regarded me, turning its head this way and that in what felt like contemplation. Whatever it decided about me, I wasn't to know. It blinked at me and then took flight, lost in the fog as soon as it left the ground.

It was over. It was all really over…

I hung my head, the weight of my upper body suspended on my arms. I'd become a loss for those I'd left behind. For Cady. For Henry. For Vic…

It seemed to me I'd just been telling her we'd always be together, that I'd never leave her…and now, I had. Just like that. Over just as it was beginning. The only thing I'd brought with me to this place was my anguish and loneliness. No wonder I'd been thinking about my parents; their deaths were the beginning of that loneliness that would never quite leave me. Henry had always walked beside me, Cady had been the better part of me and Vic? She'd been my salvation and what I thought was supposed to be an end to that empty place inside of me…

…and now, it was all gone. They were gone and I was left here. I pushed myself back on my haunches.

It started from that empty place inside of me. It worked its way up through the broken pieces of my heart, burned like acid up my throat and escaped my lips in a yell of anguish, a scream of rage and denial, an outcry to the injustice of it all.

For a moment, the fog stood still, the whispers stopped and I could hear my own ragged breathing. It only lasted a moment. The fog began its weaving dance around me again, over me, and the whispers followed it.

"You killed me…you hurt me…you left me…you ignored me…you turned your back on me…you never cared…you waited too long…"

On and on went the litany of my crimes, while icy cold fingers of fog trailed over my bare flesh. I looked down, at myself, and found that I was wearing very little. Just some kind of cloth wrapped around my hips, hardly long enough to cover those parts of mine that would've gotten me arrested in that other world for close to indecent exposure. I'd entered the world naked and apparently, I'd gone out in almost the same state…

Was this place the real punishment for my crimes? I thought the dark was bad enough, but at least it was silent there, except for my thoughts. Here, my accusers were all around me. I saw them as blacker outlines against the fog…

"I did the best I could!" I yelled. "I did what I thought was right! I tried!"

…but had I? I swore I'd never leave Vic and yet, here I was…How the hell had I let that happen? Maybe because I'd never really expected it to last? I mean, why should it? Every good thing in my life always seemed to be taken away from me, or had to be turned away, pushed away, kept away…because I was never meant to be anything other than alone…

The only thing that ever seemed to cling to me was my pain and my unquiet mind. I lay back down on the ground, defeated. I never thought I'd give up so easily, but maybe it was better this way…No matter what I did, I always seemed to hurt the people that I loved, the people who cared about me. Well, this one last hurt would be the final one…

"You dead this time, Lawman?"

I grunted. It was meant to be a sardonic laugh.

Hector.

Again, why not? Why not hear the voice of someone who'd died because of one of my bigger mistakes? And this was no whisper. I was hearing him as clear as day, as though the fog no longer existed. If seeing the owl hadn't done it, then hearing Hector convinced me that I'd passed on. I was just as dead as he was.

I'd never met him until he ambushed me in my cabin that night. He put me in a sleeper hold from behind and it wasn't until I came to and heard him ask me if I was dead that I actually got a good look at him from my prone position on the floor as I mumbled 'I don't think so.'

Now, all I could think to say was, "Maybe. Feels like it this time."

"You sure about that, Lawman? You're a pretty good fighter. The only man to take me down…"

"Yeah, well, you pretty well beat the shit out of me, Hector…but back then, I had something to live for."

"And now you don't?"

"Let's just say it's better if I think that way. I'm here, with you. That must mean something, right?"

I pushed myself back up, to sit, to find myself face to face with Hector.

He was hunkered down in front of me and he was still one of the biggest, broadest men I'd ever met. To my surprise, he had all his hair in this place. In the other place, the one I'd left behind, he'd been scalped. He'd died in front of me, Branch and Vic after we'd carried him out of the cave and laid him down so he could look up at the sky, see the faces of his Ancestors as he passed on.

If I'd listened to Henry, I wouldn't have arrested Hector in the first place and dragged him in to that mess. Branch - if I'd believed him in the first place, Hector might not have died that day. And Vic...

Again, if I'd taken Branch seriously about David Ridges, he might not have spiralled out of control. If I'd taken the time to notice the signs instead of being so consumed by all the things going on around us, I might have stepped in before he completely lost it and went after Vic, damn near choking her to death right there in the office, in front of everyone. In front of me! And oh, that wasn't the only regret I had concerning Branch and certainly just one of the many I had about Vic…

"Maybe you're just lost," Hector suggested.

I thought about what he was saying; it was easier to do than think about Vic. That hurt more than any physical pain imaginable.

"Lost? I was lost before…a few times…but all those times were dark. Silent. Not like this, Hector…You died," I told him. "You tell me what it's like."

"I knew I was dying, Lawman. I welcomed it. There was nothing else to do. I went from there to sit with my ancestors. I was never in this place until I was called. I came here because I heard you."

"Why, Hector? If it wasn't for me, you'd probably still be alive. It's my fault…" and I reached out a hand to grab his arm, just above his elbow.

"You take too much responsibility for things that are not always under your control.."

"How can you say that?" I demanded. I was squeezing his arm now. "If I'd really taken the time to think about it, if I hadn't been so angry, so distracted –"

"But you were…and that was the way of it. It's over now, for me, anyway."

"But not for me…Those whispers around us…I know those voices! I hear them no matter how hard I try not to. I hear them even when you're speaking to me," and that was true.

All of them were wanting things from me that I'd never been able to give them, even when I tried. Some of them, I'd simply walked away from. Some, I'd pushed away and some I'd stayed with but never really wanted to. Some I'd killed, with my gun, with my bare hands or simply with my indifference. They truly were the ghosts of my past. But one…one shape, one whisper, stood out clearly from all the rest. I saw her…

"I love you," was all she said.

Her hands were on either side of my face, pulling my head down so I could see the truth in her eyes. No begging, no pleading. No demands. No lies. Just those words and then the welcome warmth of her body pressed against mine and the softness of her lips against my own as her arms went around my neck. She raised herself up on her toes, coming to me, to kiss me. Our breath, our saliva, our souls met and mingled with each other's and peace filled me….

I wanted her back! I'd give anything to go back, to be with her…but I couldn't do it.

"I'm not lost Hector. I know what this place is…the Camp of the Dead."

"You're wrong, Lawman."

"I saw the owl. It was sitting right in front of me."

"Did it call your name?"

"I…no, I don't think so. It just looked at me and then it was gone."

"Then maybe you are more than lost, but not quite dead yet. This is the Land of Shadows. It's a place of confusion and chaos. A place where the sun never rises and night never falls. This is where spirits come when they are lost, confused, when they are seeking answers, when they fight what is because they can't accept it.

I wasn't about to get my hopes up about having possibly made a mistake about where I was. The Camp of the Dead or the Land on the Shadows – in either one, I was still 'gone' and suddenly so very tired…

"Fighting Death even when it's inevitable?" I suggested.

Hector shrugged.

"Maybe…but sometimes the body lives, Lawman, and it's the spirit that's dying. That's a very sad and frightening thing. Worse than Death itself. Our bodies are just the vessels that house our spirit. The spirit is the only real thing we own. It's who we are, what makes us unique."

"And you, you never lost yours? You never had doubts about the things you did when you were still in your body?"

"I did what I did on my Earth-walk. I have no regrets."

"But you never actually killed anyone?"

"I never had to. It never came to that."

"But David Ridges killed you…"

"We all have to go sometime, Lawman…and in the end, you killed him, so it became a life for a life."

"Do you know how many lives I've taken, Hector? Too many, in too many ways…You don't know what it's like to kill a man, to watch the light go out of his eyes. I have shot and stabbed and beaten men to death with my bare hands…I expected my end to come in any of those ways, but instead, it came from a simple accident, a car accident…so where is this 'life for a life'?"

"I can see why you find yourself here…"

"Why's that?"

"Because you don't accept the spirit you are. You are a warrior, a man of justice. Those men you killed, they were evil. Someone had to take them down, take them out. They would have taken more lives if you hadn't stopped them."

"And what about you? Why didn't you have to kill anyone? You were a sort of avenger, a man of justice…"

"I dealt with hurts, not deaths. Small men who wanted to be big men. Cowards who liked to inflict pain and so I gave their pain back to them. I took their teeth so they'd always remember what it was like and it was enough."

"Maybe I could accept being that kind of warrior…more like 'an eye for an eye'…'you hurt me, I'll hurt you back'…that would've been simpler, easier…"

"…but not your Path, Lawman. You see, I was a simple man, simply doing what needed to be done. I was made to be big, made to be good with my hands, made to be intimidating by my size. I used what I had to do what I could when things needed to be set right."

"Well, that's great for you, Hector!" I said with some sarcasm." No wonder you never found yourself here in the Land of Shadows. Your conscience is clear."

I moved away from him, to stand. To stance. To run a hand over my jaw while I thought. To rest the other hand on my hip. The fog, the dark shapes, whispered and swirled around me, over me, through me. Hector stood up, too. Looked down at me with concern.

"I never wanted any of this," I muttered. "I never wanted to be the sword of Justice. I wanted to leave home, go see the world, put Wyoming behind me and make my own life. I had dreams and hopes. I wanted a nice, simple life. I didn't want this complicated one where every decision I made had to be weighed. 'It is the greatest good to the greatest number of people which is the measure of right and wrong'. The philosopher, Jeremy Bentham, said that. How the hell did that ever become something I needed to concern myself with?"

Hector frowned at me, looking a bit confused. I moved my hand from my jaw to run it through my hair.

"Spock said it better in the Wrath of Khan…'the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few…or the one' if that makes it easier."

"That was a good movie," he smiled, "and I know what you meant, but not why you feel the way you do."

I blew out my breath, exasperated, and began to pace.

"Yeah, well…what about _my_ needs? What about _my_ dreams? That star on my chest always felt more like a nice shiny target to me than a symbol of justice. It felt like a weight that kept me where I was, not where I wanted to be…"

"You need to work things out, Lawman. What you wanted to be and what you were meant to be are two very different things. I thought you would have figured that out by now. 'No man that wars entangles himself with the affairs of this life; that he may please him who has chosen him to be a soldier'. That's from your bible."

I couldn't quite keep my jaw from dropping.

"I said I was a simple man, not a stupid one."

"Hector, I never meant….you just surprised me, that's all."

"It's okay, Lawman…I surprised a lot of people in a lot of ways…This place is yours to dwell in. The trouble in your mind is not my trouble. I'm leaving. You stay, work it out. Deal with your 'self'."

"Go ahead then…Leave me here. I don't blame you. It's really not that nice a place…"

"You should try to leave it, too. You don't belong here, either…and maybe it's not too late. Maybe you are only lost and not dead."

"There's a fine line between the two…"

"If you say so. Who am I to stop you from taking this path?"

"It's not an empty path. I'm not alone here."

"True, but your companions will do you no good, Lawman. They seek only to take from you, to bind you with their hands and fill your head with their whispers. You did what you did. You can't change that. You took action when you needed to and these…shadows, they seek only to make you doubt. It is not a good place."

"Well, maybe I'm not a good man…Go on, Hector. Go! You're right, this has nothing to do with you…only what I let happen to you…and that's on me."

"For what it's worth, I hold nothing against you. You did what you could for me. You took me out so I could die under the sky. You let me see my ancestors, so that I could tell them I was coming. If it truly is Death you seek, you won't find it here. There is no peace here, no open sky, no way to see the face of your Father."

"I'm tired, Hector…and I don't care anymore. I was taken out by a tree, for crying out loud! A damn tree did me in and what kind of way is that for this supposed 'warrior' to die? Maybe I chopped down his brother once, turned him in to firewood! A life for a life, right?"

"You are a strange man, Lawman…"

Hector looked one last time at me, shook his head and moved off in to the fog.

"I will hope that you think better of this decision," he called back, "I hope when the time comes, you'll listen and follow your heart instead of your head"…and with that strange statement, he was gone. Just as well.

I sat down on the ground, cross-legged. I closed my eyes, raised my hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Come and get me," I invited the Shadow people. I felt them all over me, heard the clamouring of their whispered voices in my head. Go ahead, I thought. There was one shadow, one person who's touch I welcomed. One person who treated me kindly. One person who spoke to me with her lips against mine. One person who knew all about the life I'd led. One person who forgave me for the things I'd done…

"And you are going to cling to her here instead of going back to her?"

Henry's angry voice was enough to dispel the fog around me. More than enough to jolt me out of my complacency. Enough to make me open my eyes in shock and surprise.

"What the hell - ?"

"Just shut up, Walt! Just stand up and look at me! Face me!"

I got to my feet. I did as he asked. I'd never seen him this angry, ever…and I never expected to see him here, in a place like this!

"What are you doing here?" I asked, stunned.

"I came here to find my way, to find my answers and what do I find instead? You! Sitting here, wrapped up in your self-pity and your stupid doubts! You sit here, feeling sorry for yourself, while the rest of us wait on you! Worry about you! Care about you!"

"I…I'm tired, Henry…"

"And I am tired of having to pick you up all the time! How dare you sit here and question your life? How dare you make it all about nothing when it has been all about everything?"

He gave me one more piercing glare before beginning to pace around, scattering the fog as he passed through it. He ran a hand through his hair before speaking. A little softer this time, but no less angry.

"I have been your friend for most of your life. I have stayed by your side because I thought you needed me, because I knew it was my place. I accepted that almost from the start, but you? You never accepted anything! 'I never wanted this job'", he whined in imitation of me. "Well, maybe the job wanted you, Walt! Who you are, what you are, the way you see things and deal with things – honesty and truth, fairness and justice, your ability to deal without judging, the way you act without hesitation when you know what needs to be done – all these things made you the BEST man for the job! I have told you that a million times!"

"I haven't always acted for the 'right' reasons, Henry! You of all people know the truth about that!" I was getting a little angry myself.

"So? Are you supposed to be perfect? Are you some paragon of virtue? Some saint? I never knew you placed yourself above the rest of us like that, Walt! No wonder you are here. It is hard to take a tumble from such a lofty perch!"

"You know I don't think of myself that way!"

"Then stop acting like you do! So, you have killed men, sometimes you have even enjoyed it, but it was never the act of killing you enjoyed, only the sense of justice some of those deaths brought with them and sometimes, bad men deserve to die! You know that! You are capable of doing that, so why do you sit here and cry over it?"

"I wasn't crying," I growled.

"You were blubbering like a baby to Hector, whining like a little girl! You had choices, Walt! We all do!"

"What choice, Henry? I never chose to become a cop! I never chose to become the Sheriff! I never chose to be a leader or some kind of avenging angel!"

"No, not consciously, but you did choose to follow an honourable path! You could have turned down that deal with Lucian and ended up in a detention home instead! You could have walked away when you had done your time there. You could have walked away from Martha, too. Men do those things all the time for little or no reason and you certainly had your reasons for leaving. No one would have blamed you and you would not have cared anyway. It was never the opinions of others that mattered to you; only your own sense of decency and honour. And where did that suddenly all go, Walt?"

"Away…If you'd found yourself in limbo the way I did, the way I am, then maybe you'd see that things change when you're left alone with your thoughts. Things change when you finally meet Death face to face."

"Bullshit! I have seen you invite Death. I have seen you go looking for it, but I have never seen you fear it the way you do now!"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"This," Henry swept his arm around. "This lingering…this wallowing, this indecisiveness! Totally not your style, Walt. Just get on with it! End the waiting, start the grieving! I mean, why not? You finally decided to set your boots down on a new path. A few more years and you could have retired. You could have spent those years being happy with Vic and making her happy! You could have found something else to do besides being the Sheriff…but maybe that is the problem, the thing you are most afraid of, even though you say it has always been the thing you wanted above all else. You could have been happy, Walt. You could have been a peaceful warrior. You could have changed your life…but you never really did like change much, did you?"

"Don't you talk to me like that! Don't you talk to me about Vic and what could've been!"

"Why not? You are leaving her behind to stay here with the Shadow People! You prefer all this over being willing to change! You prefer a lingering surrounded by doubts over a life that will change. So, stay here! Leave Vic alone to go through the changes herself. Leave her to go on without you, to make a sacrifice that is already in vain. Leave her holding her pain inside the way you did when the stakes tore at your flesh. Unlike you with Cady, she will never see you open your eyes, will never know that her silent suffering was worth it."

"What's going on with Vic, Henry? Tell me what you're talking about! Why did I see her here?" I grabbed his shoulders. He pushed me hard enough that I had to let go.

"Find out for yourself if it matters that much to you, Walt! I am done here. I am done talking to you. I have my own shit to take care of so that I can deal with the shit you want to leave behind! And just so you know, if Vic really were here, she would do this," and before I could blink, Henry's fist was slamming in to my face, hard enough to drop me to the ground.

He stood over me, furious. He changed, from a man to an immense bear. A grizzly or a Kodiak. Something huge! For a moment, he loomed over me, inspecting me. I thought I'd been punched by a man I'd considered a true friend – that's what it had looked and felt like, but now, I knew I'd been swatted across the face, knocked down by this immense creature. I was in the presence of Henry's spirit and this Standing Bear looked ready to rip me apart. He leaned down, sniffing at me. I was honestly terrified. Did my best not to show it, though….but he could smell it on me.

"Fuck you, Walt!" he roared and then, he was dropping to his four legs, turning his back on me, lumbering off in to the fog…

My head was spinning, not only from what I'd seen and felt, but from the things Henry had said, especially that bit about Vic.

I wanted to figure that out, even thought of going after Henry, but my head was throbbing right along there with the spinning. In fact, it was pounding so bad, I could hear it.

I could hear it! Like my heart, beating steady…

It wasn't my head, and it wasn't my heart. What I was hearing was the beat of a drum. A wolf howled in the distance and something rattled. I heard the call of the loon, or what sounded like a loon and under it all, I still heard the drum.

"Follow your heart," Hector had said….and was this what he meant?

I got to my feet with a bit of effort, having to steady myself. I peered in to the fog. My eyes weren't doing me any good, but as I strained to hear, I thought I could tell which direction the drums were coming from.

Fog was a tricky thing; it had a way of distorting sound, but I decided to head off in the direction it seemed the sound was coming from; straight ahead. It might as well have been "second star to the right and straight on tile morning" for all the certainty I felt, but hey, a trip to 'Neverland'? I was pretty sure I was surrounded by the 'lost boys' anyway, so why not?

Speaking of which, the 'lost boys'' seemed to be on the move, too. Were they being called the way I felt I was? Darker shapes in the fog moved past me, ahead of me and I followed them.

As I made my way forward, the fog began to thin out. I could see dark, unmoving shapes beside me and a few more steps ahead, I found those dark shapes becoming trees, everything becoming clearer the further I moved. The fog was melting away, becoming a forest in twilight time.

The Shadow People became recognizable in the fading light. Men and women, moving through the trees, some wearing feathered cloaks, others draped in animal furs. They paid me no attention at all, moving ahead of me, beside me, behind me. We were all intent on the same destination; a clearing ahead. A fire burning…

…and the drums called us. The spaces in between the steady beats were being filled with the sound of other drums. Some sounded like hollow logs being beaten with sticks. All of them made a rhythm that filled the twilight.

What I had thought was a loon calling was really a wooden flute. It sounded as mournful as I'd felt finding myself in this place, but I wasn't shrouded in the mist anymore and at least I had a purpose of sorts; I had to see what was going on. It felt good to move.

I got to the edge of the clearing. I saw the drummers, sitting in a circle off to the left. I saw the woman playing the flute, standing next to them. Through and behind the fire, I saw what looked like a lodge of sorts, a rounded structure made of branches and covered with furs. I'd been in a sweat-lodge many times and that's what it looked like to me.

There was a lone tree, mostly just the trunk of it, close to the fire. It looked like a 'Y', with one of its arms slightly higher than the other. It seemed incongruous, out of place to me, being so close to the fire, but really, what about this place wasn't odd?

I hung back, next to a poplar tree. It didn't feel right to go any further. I felt like an intruder, like I was witnessing something I wasn't meant to. In fact, I felt like that guy in Thomas Tryon's "Harvest Home," stumbling upon a secret ceremony I wasn't meant to see.

Already, the Shadow People ahead of me were forming a circle around the fire, dancing. Not wildly, but with intent, each step seeming almost rehearsed.. The stragglers, the ones behind me, were hurrying to catch up. A man passed me on my right. He was wearing a wolf pelt, complete with the head, which rested on top of his own. There was another one, decked out like a fox. A coyote, a badger, a goat. A lynx, a cougar, a buffalo. They all passed me. I held my breath when a 'bear' went ahead on my right, but it wasn't Henry. I didn't think I could take another swat from him.

I was just letting go of the breath I'd been holding when a man stepped out of the lodge and began to make his way around the circle, on the outside. He was a big man in stature, as tall, if not taller than I was, but in presence, he seemed huge! He was bare-chested, leanly-muscled, wearing about as much or as little as I was.

He was a man in his prime, strong angular features that made him handsome and harsh looking at the same time. His skin was the colour of burnished copper in the firelight. His hair, long, black and shiny, hung to his waist, decorated with feathers. White feathers that also made up the cloak he was wearing along with the bands around his wrists and ankles.

The top half of his face was painted black. There were two yellow dots beneath each of his eyes and I felt like I was looking at a Snowy owl, made human. He moved, crouched down now, behind the spectators, spreading his feathered cloak out in imitation of flight. When he neared the tree trunk, he jumped up, unbelievably high, and landed in its fork, arms still out-spread. He began to sing in a voice surprisingly soft for someone his size.

This is what I heard –

"_**Hoka-Hey Heya Wakan Kolaya**_

_**Namahon yelo Lila Wakan! **_

_**Taku Skanskan hemakiye**_

_**Wakanya Wowanyanke ton sichun.**_

_**Pilamaye Mitakuye Oyasin**_

_**Maka sitomniyan. Epelo**_"

But this is what I understood –

"_**I**_ _**greet you, Spirit friends.**_

_**Hear Me, Most Sacred**_

_**The Power That Moves Everything told me the Great Vision;**_

_**To give birth to a good power of the inner spirit.**_

_**Thank you, all my Relations**_

_**All over the universe. I am saying this**_."

He repeated this three times.

It wasn't Cheyenne. It was Lakota. Didn't know how I knew that or understood it….but here, I did. I was mesmerised by the display going on in front of me and by the music that filled not only this world, but myself, as well.

It was haunting and eerie, especially the flute. The yips I heard coming from some of the dancers made my skin want to crawl, but all of it soothed me at the same time. It was all so primal, so 'ancient', so…pagan. I didn't know how else to describe it. It moved me…and maybe underneath it all, I was this primal, this pagan, this 'basic'.

I'd been to pow-wows, I'd been to gatherings, but I'd never seen anything quite like this! "To give birth to the power of the inner spirit." It was transformation I was witnessing and the joy that came with it.

The flute became beautiful, echoing through the gathering darkness. Rattles shook and shook again. The wolf howled…the flute went up, then down…and then it all ended with a last howling from the wolf.

Everything was silent for a moment and I wanted to step forward, become a part of it all. Before I could move, though, the man, the Owl Man as I was beginning to think of him, spoke.

"And so, we enter the Sacred. Some of you come as your True spirits. Others wear false faces, hoping to deceive me."

Again, I shouldn't have understood him, but I did. His voice was powerful. He looked down at the Shadow People/Animals below him and regarded each one with sharp eyes.

"You cannot. I am the Guardian of the Hanging Road. No one goes there from here without going through me. Spirits that do not know themselves are not welcome in the Camp of the Dead."

Okay, this was strange. I was hearing Lakota, but the story of the Hanging Road, the Camp of the Dead; it was Cheyenne as far as I knew...but then again, what did I know about this place? Not much and too much...

He reached down and grabbed something. It was a staff of sorts, made of bone and decorated with more feathers, beads and bells. He pointed to the lodge with it.

"There is the way. Only those that know peace in their hearts may enter. It is time. _Anpetu Waste' Wani_ \- it is a good day to live. _Waste' AnpetuTa Mata_\- it is a good day to die."

Some of the Shadow People rose, others remained seated. Those on their feet headed for the lodge.

"_Hoka-hey_!" the Owl Man shouted, jumping down from his perch.

He threw open the flap, ushering in those standing at the lodge. They went, cheerfully, happily, in celebration. I wanted to follow them. I took a step forward. Hector told me to follow my heart. The drums had sounded like my heart. I followed them. They brought me here. He told me to get out of this place and going to the lodge seemed like the way to do that…The Camp of the Dead awaited me.

To those still seated on the ground, the Owl Man swept his staff over them. There was no celebration among them.

"You are not ready for this," he told them. "You know no peace. You will stay here until you do!"

There were protests and cries, but they were cut short when the Owl Man hissed at them.

"Back to where you were and what you still are!"

He waved his hand and the Shadow People became the mist, the fog that they had been. They scattered - wailing, screaming, moaning. I took another step forward, thinking myself hidden in the commotion.

I was wrong.

The Owl Man spun to face me. His black eyes pierced me over the distance between us. He moved towards me like a panther. He looked dangerous. Looked like he was going to swoop down on me at any moment.

"Not you, either!" he growled.

Instinctively, my hand went for my gun. Unfortunately, it wasn't there. Obviously, old habits died harder than old Sheriffs or were never lost, depending on just what the truth of my situation was. I weighed my options. I didn't want to stay here…

"I was called here," I began. "I heard the drums…" I thought about taking another step forward.

"They were not for _**you**_!"

I took that step anyway. He raised his staff, his eyes burned in to mine, and then, the lightning that flew from that staff hit me square in the chest.

I was on the ground, my body arced in a spasm, every muscle I owned stretched so tight it felt as though they were about to snap. I was filled with electric fire, in agony, thinking one insane refrain; I couldn't go forward and I couldn't go back; and then…

…I was nothing.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: **

This may not be 'apropos' as Walt would say, but it has been brought to my attention through that good old grapevine, that folks are wondering whatever happened to** Happy New Year, Walt. **Well, let me tell you that I have added another chapter to that story!** Personally**, it's my **FAVOURITE** tale - just **LOVE Walt** in that one, so if you want to find out how things are going over there,** check under the M rated stories** and have a look-see. **Poor Walt is feeling neglected** and I'm really interested in what all of you think of the way that story is going! If you like it, please fave or follow it so you'll be notified when I update...and oh, yes, I plan to!:)

**And now, here's the next chapter of Home Is Where My Heart Is...**

For Eileen, who's waited so patiently and Sherill, for kicking my butt...and all the rest of my fans who love reading what I love writing!:) Thanks so much, everyone!:) and as of this day, Oct.30, I'm still working on this:)

**Update October/2016...still working on this, I swear!**

**Chapter 10**

The last donut…

Not as memorable or as note-worthy as 'the last spike' or 'the last stand', but the way Branch and I were looking at that Boston Cream, you'd think it was the most important thing in the world. For my part, eating it would be a great way to fill the suddenly awkward silence that had fallen around us after Ellis had left. On Branch's part, I think he wanted to use that donut to avoid talking to me.

He'd been okay in Ellis's company. Had contributed somewhat to the bullcrap conversations we'd had, but now, with just the two of us, he'd grown silent and almost awkward. I suppose it didn't help that I kept looking at him, trying to reconcile what I'd heard and read about him with the actually presence of the man. Hard to believe that a supposedly arrogant, crazy-ass man could be so damn worried about a bouquet of roses…

…and yet, he couldn't seem to leave the things alone. Another great distraction, I supposed. If he kept worrying at them though, there'd be nothing left of those poor flowers!

"You want that donut?" I asked him. He shook his head.

"You have it," he told me.

"Don't really need it," I replied. "You take it. Seems a shame to let it go to waste."

"True…"

We both sat there, eying it and each other over. I went to reach for it. So did Branch. Wasn't that always the way? Before either one of us could lay claim to it, both our respective cell phones went off. Mine was sending out 'Born To Be Wild'. Branch's rang with 'Ruby' by Kenny Rogers. I assumed it was the woman of the same name, the one Walt said ran his life. I'd talked to the woman once, back when the idea of asking Walt for help had been only that. If I'd never made that call in the first place…

I answered mine with a 'hey, Jack', getting to my feet. I heard Branch say 'yup' and then I was moving out of the room, giving both of us some privacy. I meandered down the hallway, towards the front door.

Damn, I'd meant to call Jack first, but he who hesitates ends up apologizing.

"You still alive, Trace?" Jack asked in that rumbly drawl of his that reminded me of Walt.

"Barely," I answered. "Sorry I didn't call, Jack, but things have been…well, let's say 'interesting' since I left the bar."

"Yeah, you ran off without filling me in, but fortunately for you, I'm a semi-nosey kind of guy. I called your station. Talked to Daryl."

Daryl Jones was the evening dispatcher at my office.

"He filled me in, sort of. Said there'd been an accident. That Sheriff friend of yours, Longmire…"

"Yeah, Walt. Got clipped by a snowplow on his way back to Wyoming."

"On a backroad, was he?"

"Yeah…think the main highway must've been shut down for a bit."

"You've been gone a long time. I take it things aren't good?"

"Could've been worse, I suppose, but it was bad enough, Jack…I got here when they brought him in. Saw him. He didn't look good. They took him to surgery pretty well right away. As far as I know, he's still there."

"Ahh, Jesus, Trace. I'm sorry. I know you kinda bonded with the guy."

"You're not jealous, are you?" I asked, trying to inject some humour in to the situation.

Replaying that sight of Walt really got to me. Knowing he was still in surgery only made it worse. And just talking to Jack, hearing a friendly, familiar voice somehow only made me feel even more alone in all this. Whether or not any of that made sense didn't matter much to me. It was just good to be talking to a friend…It was a relief of sorts.

"I just know you've got a soft heart, buddy," was how Jack replied to that. "Besides, you never introduced us, so I can't rightly say I've got competition for your questionable affections."

That made me laugh.

"Hey, it's all okay. I just met his 'lady' friend. She actually hauled off and clocked me one!"

"Really? You got hit, again? You must be a sight, man! What is she, some kind of Amazon?"

"Nah, just a little firecracker Italian woman with a wicked right hook. She's a cop, too. Walt's deputy, as a matter of fact."

"And she slugged you?" Jack was laughing now.

"She was a little…upset at the time."

"Understandable, I suppose."

"It's a long story, Jack." Thinking about Vic dried up my laughter.

"Well, you can tell me all about it, Trace. I'm almost in Hardin."

"What?"

"You heard me. Daryl told me where you were, just not the real specifics of it. So, which hospital, amigo?"

"County," I said. Jack was on his way!

"Alrighty…I know you probably haven't eaten anything, so I'm bringing you some grub. Nothing real fancy, but definitely better than that hospital crap."

"Jack, what the heck are doing driving down here in this storm?" I admonished him. As happy as I was that he was on his way, I was mad at him for taking chances.

"Storm's over, pal. It's been clear sailing from Billings. I-90 is passable although not so hot this close to Hardin. It's stopped snowing, though."

I moved to the front doors, wanting to see for myself what it was like out there. Sure enough, the snow had stopped. About a foot and some of the white stuff lay quietly on the ground. I thought there'd be more, the way it had been coming down.

"You still shouldn't have come, Jack," I told him, belying the relief I felt that he was as close as he was. I should've called him when I was going to, but he was almost here now and maybe that was for the best.

"Someone's gotta take care of you, Trace."

"Nice of you to elect yourself, but I should warn you – we've got company. Another deputy. Branch Connally, to be precise…"

"Really?" Jack read the papers; he knew who I was talking about.

"Yeah, and some Indian guy. Close friend of Walt's…"

"Well, I brought enough to go around. Figured there's always people foregoing what passes for food in a hospital. It's not much, just those BLT's that you like so much and I know you'll probably say you're not hungry, but you need to eat. You probably haven't had anything since lunch, right?"

"Ellis stopped by with some donuts but yeah, I could eat." I paused for a moment, grateful to Jack for thinking about me. Seemed he always did that. He was a good friend. My closest friend.

"Jack…thanks. For coming down. For…well, just for being there…y'know…"

"Yeah, yeah! I know. Don't get all choked up now, Trace. Can't let those Wyoming folk see you getting' all misty-eyed. Gotta go, buddy, but I'll be there soon."

"Alright…"

… and then, Jack was gone.

I was just sliding my cell phone in to the back pocket of my jeans and turning away from the doors when Henry almost ran me over. Instead of colliding with me, he just put a hand out and moved me aside. His expression reminded me of a thunderhead rolling across the big skies, just looking for a place to wreak havoc.

'"What the heck?" I muttered, regaining my balance and watching him stalk off across the parking lot. That was becoming my favourite question of the night. It seemed like in a spit second, he was gone from sight. All that remained of his passing were his footprints in the snow.

What the heck was that all about and just where was he going? I hurried down to the waiting room, thinking maybe there'd been some word about Walt and judging by the look on Henry's face, if there had been, the word wasn't good.

I spared a glance in to Vic's room. She was still there, sitting on the bed, talking to Dr. Hunter. I thought about going in there, asking what was going on, but the two of them looked deep in conversation. Then, Dr. Hunter hugged Vic and I made a b-line for the waiting room. I wasn't ready to face Vic if the worst had happened…

Branch was just the way I left him, although done with his phone call. Just sitting there, fiddling with those damn flowers! Okay, what was going on? Only one way to find out…

"I just saw Henry storm out through the front doors. Vic is being hugged by her doctor and you - ! You're just sitting here, playing with those flowers! What happened while I was gone?"

Branch looked up at me, his incomprehension plain to see.

"Henry left?" he asked.

"Yeah, almost took me out on his way by!"

"Why would he leave?"

"You're asking me? I was hoping you knew why! You haven't heard anything?"

"Not a word…"

"Well, what the - !"

Okay, I couldn't stand it one more minute! I snatched the flowers from Branch's hand. Once, they'd been beautiful, I was sure, but now? Now, they were beat-up and starting to wilt. They were dying…and maybe Walt was, too. I had to do…_something_!

I strode to the bathroom. Ran the water. Looked for something to put these poor bedraggled things in. A moment later, I was back in the waiting room, slamming the flowers in their makeshift vase down on the table.

"Don't touch them!" I ordered Branch.

He put his hand up, palms forward.

"Okay, sure. Whatever you say."

I threw myself down in a chair one over from him and it was then that I felt Vic's gun, still stuck in the waistband of my jeans. Needless to say, it was a painful reminder. I reached behind me. Pulled it out. Thought about handing it over to Branch.

"So, Henry storms out of here, Vic's being comforted in her room and you heard nothing?"

I toyed with the gun. If he was only going to give me one-syllable answers, I'd be half-tempted to start pointing the thing at him. Don't know exactly why I was so angry; I just was. Tense, I guess. Feeling alone, in the dark…

"Honestly, Tracy, I haven't heard a word. Didn't see Henry. Don't know what's going on."

I glared at him for the smallest of moments. I knew he was telling me the truth. I also knew that he knew about feeling alone and left out. Jack was on his way; I knew that, too, so where was all this sudden anger coming from?

Vic punching me. Henry ignoring then shoving me. Branch, silent as a monk, keeping to himself. Even that damn donut seemed to be making fun of me somehow! I was tired. I was worn-out and strung-up all at the same time. No different than anyone else here waiting for word about Walt, but Henry, Vic, Branch; they were family. Certainly Henry and Vic, anyway. Branch? Maybe he was feeling just as left out as I was…

"I'm sorry," I apologized, putting the gun away in my coat pocket.

The thing was slung over the back of my chair and I thought about putting it on and just heading out of here, but I couldn't. I was responsible for Walt being in Montana in the first place…and right or wrong, I felt responsible for what had happened to him. I was mad at myself. Mad at the fact that I'd felt the need to call Walt up in the first place. Mad that I'd been almost relieved when he'd sauntered in to my office that day. Mad at my seeming inability to be the kind of Sheriff I should have been.

Doubts and fear settled over me with the familiar silence. Just where the heck was Jack? I was wondering that, wondering if I'd go insane before he showed up when I heard a soft chuckle next to me. Branch was looking at the roses, one hand over his mouth, but it wasn't enough to cover up his soft laughter.

"Hey, those things needed water!" I barked.

"Yup, they sure did, but Tracy…a toilet brush holder? Really?"

Had he finally decided to talk just to criticize me? Okay, now _that_ was the last straw!

"Look, Branch," I turned on him, ready to hit him with both barrels, thinking how unfortunate it was that I'd put the gun away and had to settle for going all metaphoric on his behind, even if the metaphor was just in my mind.

I couldn't do it. The sight of Branch, eyes squeezed shut, hand unable to hide his smirk, said smirk turning in to a full-on smile, the sound of his laughter, somehow almost blasphemous in this place of doom and gloom just undid me. I wanted to hold on to my 'mad' but I just couldn't do it. His totally out of place laughter was contagious and I fell victim to it. Started out as an indignant snort. Progressed to a guffaw of sorts, then moved along to a chuckle.

I looked at those poor flowers. To my surprise, they were perking up a bit. They truly were beautiful, but honestly, that 'vase' really had to go! It had seemed do-able at the time, but now, it just looked pathetic and oh, so wrong!

I lost it then. Laughter just seemed to erupt from deep inside me. Talk about 'wrong' and yet, it somehow felt right. It felt good. It felt…freeing. It felt crazy and out of control, just like this night did. It must have sounded much the same way because a nurse peeked in the room, but I waved her away, going to pinch the bridge of my nose to keep the tears from falling from my eyes. That was a huge mistake!

It hurt like hell and I yelped. Branch laughed harder and that made me follow suit. Oh, Lord, this was bad! This was insane! This was so very, very wrong.

"Oh, shit!" Branch gasped. "This is definitely not…not 'apropos'…."

"About…a good…ten miles from…from decent," I tried to reply.

"We're about to get…to get struck by…by lightning," Branch got out, barely, and the image of that just set me howling. This is not good, I kept telling myself and then I'd look at those flowers in that toilet brush holder and off I'd go again.

Branch was getting a better handle on himself.

"I sure hope you rinsed that thing out," he managed to say without too many pauses for air.

"Yup", I replied, in imitation of him. Really, what else was there to say? I had to admit, as indecent as this all was, I enjoyed the sound of Branch's laughter. Yeah, the waiting was getting to both of us, that was for sure.

I rubbed at my watering eyes, careful not to bump my nose. I had to get some control over this because I felt almost hysterical. Branch wasn't far behind me on that trip, either.

"Oh, Lordy!" I exhaled, petering down to chuckles again. Still a few too many of those, but I just couldn't stop. Not cold, anyway.

"Those poor suckers were…were thirsty!" Branch exclaimed.

"Parched," I agreed. I imagined them just sucking up all that water, could even hear them slurping at it. Oh, just stop it! I told myself. This really wasn't funny. It was sad, in fact. So damn sad…

…and maybe that's why we were laughing. Trying to counteract the seriousness of the situation. Trying to stay sane. Trying to fill the silence with something other than.

"They look better, " Branch said at last, sounding almost normal.

He was right about that. Those roses seemed to be standing a little taller, maybe even blooming a little wider and I felt a small hope for the first time in this long night. If those flowers could make it, then Walt would, too, right? They were delicate, fragile things and Walt was anything but…Oh, we humans and the smallest hopes we'll cling to! The tiniest signs of good fortune we'll imagine when push comes to shove…

"He loves her," Branch said quietly now.

He was leaning forward, staring at those roses. It seemed on impulse that he plucked one of the white ones out and twirled it between his thumb and forefinger. He considered it for a moment and then turned those electric blue eyes of his to me.

"In a pinch, Walt would've done what you did, Tracy."

I didn't get what he was talking about. I frowned my puzzlement at him.

"The 'vase'," Branch explained, pointing to it with the hand not holding the rose.

"Is that a good thing?" I wondered out loud, able, at last, to get a full sentence out.

"It's a 'Walt' thing, that's for sure. He's good at making due with what's at hand."

"Is that one of the things you learned working for him?" I asked, still feeling a little goofy.

"I learned it when he saved my life," Branch replied, simply and softly. Silence, again…only this time, not feeling so heavy or lasting so long.

"I know that _you_ know who I am," Branch threw out, any trace of laughter completely gone from his voice. He sounded sad, in fact and he sounded resigned. That sobered me up.

"I'll admit, I've read about you."

"Then maybe you'll understand why I feel…uncomfortable around you. It's not you, Tracy. It's me and my…legacy."

"Hey, I don't put much stock in the things I read in the papers," I tried to reassure him, but I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been curious about him after hearing his name.

It seemed like forever ago that he had followed Vic in to this room, although the pain in my nose seemed to argue that it had only been moments. Yeah, I'd surely never forget Vic, never be able to undo my first sight of her, but I'd been wrong about her when I'd pegged her as a lunatic bag-lady…and I had no doubt I'd be just as wrong about Branch if I chose to believe everything I'd read about him. Facts were facts; no denying that, but facts weren't people and everyone had a few sides to them, some, more than others.

I'd 'heard' that Branch was a swaggering, arrogant, entitled little turd from a number of sources, long before he'd made it to the papers, thanks to his daddy – but this man before me was so far from being any of those things, but then again, this wasn't the place for swaggering, nor the circumstances for arrogance. I knew it was more than Walt's accident that made me wonder just who Branch really was. The man I saw next to me still looked just as haunted, just as sad and just as lonely as he had when he'd first walked in here.

Time, life and most especially death changed a person…

"I'm not here to judge you, Branch. I read about your dad, what he tried to do to you. I read about David Ridges and how that all went, according to the papers, but I don't need to know any more about you than the fact that you're here now. You brought Vic here to be with Walt. You tried to save her, to stop Ellis from handcuffing her and it's more than obvious to me that you care enough about her and that you care more than enough about Walt."

"Some would say I never gave a damn about anyone but myself," he said, still twirling that rose, not looking at me anymore. I had the feeling he was looking in to his past.

"I can't speak for your yesterdays," I told him, "but I know what I see right now. I can feel your concern for Walt and I saw what you tried to do for Vic. It's all going to be okay," and although I wasn't real sure about that last statement, I said it anyway. Always hope until you can't hope any longer.

Branch obviously had some serious doubts about my pronouncement.

"It all should have been okay right from the start", he mused, sounding angry. With himself, mostly.

"If things had been different," he continued softly, "If I'd known then what I know now…"

"Haven't we all said that a time or two in our lives?" I replied, trying to reassure him that he wasn't alone in his thinking.

If I'd known Walt would have ended up here, I'd never have called him down in the first place, but really, thinking about that now, how could I have possibly known this would happen? I wasn't psychic, I couldn't see the future. A great many things in this world were way beyond my control. Easy to think that now, when not that long ago I'd been blaming myself for Walt's accident. This was why it was good to talk to someone else instead of being stuck with your own thoughts. You got to hear just how silly they were sometimes…

"Yeah, but…" Branch leaned back in his chair and ran a hand over his hair. He kept on twirling that rose, around and around…

"I should have known certain things! I should've been made aware and then maybe things between me and Walt would've made more sense!"

"I don't get what you're talking about, " I admitted, "and hey, this is all your business, but if you feel like sharing, I'll listen…"

"There was always tension between me and Walt," he continued after a moment. "Right from the very start, before I ever came to work for him. Yeah, I definitely had that 'Connally' 'attitude, especially in my teens, but before that, when I was just a kid, Walt just never seemed to like me…"

"Then how the heck did you end up working for him?"

"Because, it was better than working for my da – for Barlow!"

Couldn't miss the fact that he skipped over that 'dad' part. Couldn't blame him, not after what Barlow Connally had done. Man, what must it be like to be ashamed of your own father? I couldn't even imagine it!

"It really is just water under the bridge," Branch continued, seeming to change direction. "Things are different now….better. At least, they were, until this…" and he gestured around the room at large and the flowers in particular.

What could I say? I wanted to tell him that everything was going to be alright, but I'd already said that, but did I truly believe it? I wasn't sure. The waiting was really starting to get to me.

"I never thought I'd see the day when I was worried about Walt…when I cared enough to be worried…"

"He's a good man," I spoke up. I knew the truth in that statement.

"He's one of the best men I know," Branch affirmed. He touched the petals on the rose with a gentle finger.

"I really got to know him after….after all that shit with my – with the bastard that fathered me! After Ridges, well, Walt just kinda left me hanging. Suspended me. Can't blame him, although I did, for a while. But after I found out about his wife…well, things changed. I changed. Walt changed. We all changed…We had to! Nothing was the same anymore."

"I heard a bit about that," I confessed. "I heard Walt was armed to the teeth. Left his badge at home and took off after that Nighthorse guy…"

"Yeah. He was convinced Nighthorse was behind his wife's murder. He knew he was throwing his job away, maybe even his life, but really? I mean, I would've done the same thing…"

"And meanwhile, daddy-dearest was intent on killing you because you knew the truth…"

Maybe I shouldn't have said it that way; Branch looked pained for a moment, but then, he squared his shoulders and lifted his chin.

"Good thing I never really trusted him…" he said and then he smiled, but there wasn't any humour in it.

"Yeah, but too bad it came down to that. I can't even imagine what that must've been like for you, Branch."

"Slightly eye-opening to say the least," he mused.

"What happened after that, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I hit the trigger, distracted that prick and shot him instead. He had his gun raised, pointed right at me. Got off the shot anyway, but I put him down. Then, I called Vic…"

He got up and began to pace, still twirling that rose between his thumb and finger.

"She knew Walt was going to go after Nighthorse. She was out looking for him, determined to stop him. To keep him from ruining his life. When I told her about Barlow, she sent Ferg out where I was and kept after Walt. I really wanted her to come, but I knew she was the only one who might be able to stop Walt. I was bleeding pretty bad, but Barlow was worse. Ferg came with an ambo. He really stepped up that day. Arrested Barlow, called in some back-up from Powder River and after the paramedics patched me up, I went after Vic."

"It all sounds so unreal, like a plot in a story or a TV show. Can't even begin to imagine living it! Branch, we don't have to talk about this anymore…."

"It's okay…It's hard for me to believe it actually happened sometimes…Good to go over it, to remind myself that I got a chance at redemption. That I'm still alive. That I finally became the person I always wanted to be that day…"

He sat back down.

"Everything is still a bit of a blur. It all happened so fast. I caught up to Vic. She'd already caught up to Walt and she had him pulled over. She was trying to drag him out of his truck, yelling and screaming at him to back down."

"Were they together then?" I asked.

"Not like they are now, but in some strange way, those two were always 'together'. I know he wouldn't have listened to me or anyone else for that matter, but somehow, she got through to him. Might have been when she punched him," and his slight smile did have a touch of humour in it this time. Even I couldn't keep from grinning just a little. Picturing Vic punching Walt was just a little too much. Not that I couldn't picture it, not after she'd gone after Branch and me, but still…

"I showed up just in time to convince him that Vic was telling the truth when she said it was Barlow, not Nighthorse who was behind his wife's murder. I really think it helped that I was bleeding all over the place." Again, just a smidge of humour.

"I've never seen Walt so…wild," and there was nothing funny about the way Branch was looking now, "and I've never, ever seen him so cold. So detached, yet so focused on bringing down some justice. I hope to God I never see him like that ever again."

He exhaled and ran a hand through his hair.

"That didn't sound right," he sighed. "What I want, more than anything, is to see him again, period!"

"I get it. This waiting…."

"Yeah…Y'know, while my 'dad' was in the hospital, I never gave a shit! I only regretted not killing him outright, which might sound heartless, but," he shrugged, "that's just the way it was."

"He tried to kill you! What were you supposed to feel?"

"I don't know….but it sure wasn't anything like what I'm feeling right now. Walt and I, things were always strained between us and then, after it all settled down, we talked. And we talked. He told me so much, about the things between him and Barlow, things that had coloured the way he saw me, the way he treated me…and I have to admit, I treated him like crap, too…but that all just disappeared. We spent a lot of time together, learned a lot about each other. He even found my mom for me…and he took me back. Took me in…and I did it right this time. I listened and I learned. He became the father I'd always wished I'd had…"

He ran a hand over his face. Struggled to keep his emotions in check.

"It's funny, but I thought you were his son when I first saw you," I told him.

"Trust me, that's a compliment I probably don't deserve, but like I said, none of us are the people we used to be. We all saw each other in ways we didn't want to be seen and there was a distance between us all at first. Still is as far as Vic and I go, but I can't blame her for the way she feels about me…"

"You said something about her suffering from PTSD…"

"Yeah…but it's more than that between us. I hurt Walt and I…I hurt her…"

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor.

"I tried to kill her…"

What? I was sure I hadn't said that out loud, but maybe I did.

"Long story but it was when I was trying to convince everyone that Ridges was still alive and still after me. I was out of my mind, consumed with finding him. To put it bluntly, I was a lunatic but in my own defense, no one believed me!"

"Yeah…I heard about that…"

"Vic, she wrote a report about me. She was going to give it to Walt. In it, she told him I was unstable, a danger and a threat. She was right, but at the time, I didn't see it that way. While she was being held captive by Chance Gilbert, I was breaking in to her house, looking for that report."

Branch's voice had grown soft; most people confessed their sins in a quiet voice.

"I should've been out there with Walt, trying to find her, but instead, I was more worried about saving my own ass. I can't take that back and I can't change the fact that when I finally did see Ridges on that bridge, when I felt I had proof, she threw my crazy behaviour in my face and I just snapped. I grabbed her by the throat…I hauled her out of her chair in the office and pinned her against the window…."

Whoa! This might just be a little TMI…

"I don't know if I would've strangled her. Don't know what I would've done. Walt came after me. Wrestled me away from her and locked me up. Then he went to see Nighthorse and Vic went to check out my story about Ridges being on that bridge. She would've done anything to get away from me and I don't blame her. I scared her…and worse, when Walt went to find her, to make sure she was safe, that's when he found out Ridges was alive and he went after him himself. He almost got killed…and as far as Vic's concerned, that was just as bad if not worse than my trying to…kill her. I put Walt in danger and no one does that, not when Vic's around!"

Branch raised his head. Looked at me.

"Now, aren't you glad you got to know me?" he asked sarcastically.

"We've all done things," I began, surprised that I could even find my voice, but not surprised that I could look at Branch and see that he wasn't that guy that had gone off the rails that day.

"Things we're not so proud of. Things we wish we could take back," and yeah, I knew what that was like!

"But you said it. You got a second chance. A way to start over. To make amends…"

"Not so easy to do with Vic…"

"Maybe it's just her turn to deal with things," I suggested. "You went through some unreal things. She did, too…I saw how she reacted to you but I also saw how she reached out to you. You understand a bit what she's going through, right?"

"A bit…" Branch agreed, "but this accident…Walt being hurt, really hurt…I don't know how well she's going to deal with this on top of everything else…"

"Pretty sure I wasn't seeing her at her best…" and I gingerly fingered the bridge of my nose.

"Just be glad she didn't break it."

"I won't hold it against her."

"You shouldn't. She's got one hell of a temper, but she's got a big heart, too…Only thing is, most of it's filled with Walt."

"You said you thought she might be pregnant?"

Branch shrugged.

"I'm no expert, but I've worked with Vic for years now. I've seen her in all kinds of moods, for all kinds of reasons. Her little 'monthly' tirades are something you don't ever want to experience, but there's just been something…different about her lately…something more than these flashbacks she's been having…I don't know; she's just been so 'emotional' lately, in a different kind of way. Almost a 'soft' way…and if Vic heard me saying that, _my_ nose would be broken right now…"

"Aww, Jesus!" It took me a moment to realize I'd taken the Lord's name in vain. Had a feeling I'd be forgiven, though. Might even have been praying, in fact.

"I know she's out of her mind, worried about Walt. He loves her. She loves him and she's already proven beyond a doubt that he's the most important thing in the world to her…"

"If he doesn't make it…" I began.

"Then maybe we're all lost," Branch finished for me.

Pretty sure my world would still go on, although it wouldn't be quite the world it used to be, but for Branch, for Vic, maybe even for Henry, I just knew things wouldn't be the same. And if Vic was pregnant…

"Who's lost?"

That rumble, that drawl.

I looked up, momentarily surprised to see Jack in the doorway to the waiting room. For one small second, I thought I was going to look up and see Walt there. Apparently, so did Branch. Jack just looked at us both, raising an eyebrow at our startled faces.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked.

"Not much," Branch replied.

We both got to our feet. Branch seemed a little nervous but I was just relieved. Not at the interruption in our conversation; I wanted to talk more with Branch, hear more, but I sure was glad to see Jack. His presence seemed to fill the room. I needed his familiar face, his voice, like Walt's but not Walt's. He was like a touchstone to my own reality, a small piece of MY life in this place so full of strangers I'd been forced to meet under the worst of circumstances.

"Man, you are some kind of sight, Trace!" he greeted me as I came towards him, a cardboard box in his hands. He peered down at my face, inspecting my black eyes and not so lovely nose.

"I can hardly wait to meet the little spit-fire that did that to you!" he laughed.

"Be careful what you wish for," I muttered, echoing Walt's prophetic near-to-last words to me. I took a small moment to pray that I'd hear him say 'I told you so' sometime soon.

What I did hear instead, while Jack surveyed the room was –

"Well, turn around, Mr. Tall and Lanky and let's say 'howdy'."

I couldn't see her, but Vic was standing right behind Jack!

Oh, man…


	11. Chapter 11

**Here we go. Chapter 11...  
**

** Hope you enjoy it and that it makes some kind of sense! And yes, I am the worst proof-reader EVER!:) By the way, don't forget to keep an eye on Happy New Year Walt/Vic. Feel like I'll be adding to those two shortly with, of course, the usual typos, found eventually! LOL.:)**

**Update - in the process of selling my house, packing it up and moving all my crap to Lord knows where! Hang in there, folks - I'll be back, I promise:)**

**Chapter 11**

Alright, Vic, get up!

Get your ass off the bed and get moving! Can't sit here. Can't stay here. Can't change what's happening to you or what might happen, but you can damn well change what's going on around you. At least, you can _try_…for Branch, for Henry and yeah, even for Tracy. Maybe you can even prove to Eileen that you are that tough girl she says you are….

Just get the fuck up!

I slid off the bed. My feet touched the ground. I felt it, as solid as it should be…

…but then….

…then, it all went wonky!

Sure, I'll admit I was foggy in the head; no doubt about it – but how fucking weird was it to find myself surrounded by the stuff? Honest to God, one minute I was in a hospital room and the next I was in some creepy-ass place. Fog so thick I could barely see my hands in front of me. And the whispers! All around me. Not loud enough to make out any words, but definitely there…and definitely spooky. This was an unquiet place.

What the fuck?

It had to be Eileen! She must've given me something else when she gave me that shot! I'd told her not to, but she must've done it anyway! It was the only fuckin' explanation that made any sense to me…'cause this shit going on around me sure didn't!

I was trippin'…

Just what the hell had she given me? Atavan? Felt like it! First, I was_ here_. I was chilled. I was nervous. My damn heart was pounding. I felt like throwing up and there was a pain, deep and sharp, in my abdomen…and I was HERE!

Okay, it wasn't real.

It was just the drugs…and oh, as much as I liked the woman, she was gonna hear about this when I got my head back on straight! I told her I wanted to stay…aware! I wanted to be 'there' when…when _whatever_ happened with…with Walt!

Instead, I was seriously fucked up and how the hell did I get myself out of this? I felt about two seconds away from panting like a dog! I felt the need to have my gun with me, but maybe it was just as well that I didn't, because I might have shot my damn foot off when I heard a giggle. From right beside me! I jumped a little, turned my head; nothing there – as if I would've seen anything anyway in this damn mist - and then I looked down, beside me…

A little boy, about four or five, was looking up at me. Total fuckin' clarity as far as his image was concerned. Dark hair. A fringe of bangs, longer and shaggier towards the back and... those same blue eyes I'd know anywhere!

He giggled again while I stood there, mouth hanging open like a fish out of water. It felt like my eyes were going to pop right out of my damn head.

"Papa always says you swear more when you're scared," he said, before bringing his little hands up to his mouth, to hold back the giggles?

He thought this was all funny. I thought I was going to lose my mind! Or I already had!

This was my son, Walt's boy. Our child, and I knew that as surely as I knew his name; John Henry Longmire!

"What the fu - !"

I clapped my own hands over my mouth when I realized what I was going to say, or more exact, how I was going to say it!

We stood there, both of us covering our mouth, eyes wide. John caved first. He dropped his hands and laughed. He took those same hands, attached to his long, skinny arms and wrapped them around my legs, hugging me and laughing as only a child can; freely and with total abandon.

Aaack! I'm sure I said that, or made that noise, or swallowed my tongue.

I'd never seen a ghost before. Hadn't ever really believed in them, but honestly couldn't say I wasn't leaning that way after some of the crazy-ass things I'd seen since coming to Wyoming. Since spending time with Henry…and even with Walt. Yeah, I'd seen and felt some really weird shit, but the last thing I'd ever expected to see was…this!

My son! Walt's boy! OUR child!

Clinging to my legs, unafraid.

I wasn't sure if I was supposed to run off screaming, faint dead away or start crying. I didn't do any of those things. Instead, I knelt down, slowly, until we were on the same level.

I looked him in his beautiful blue eyes. I put my hands on either side of his small delicate face and I drank the sight of him in…

Had to have been in total shock!

"John…"

His name escaped me like a sigh of delight. Like an awed whisper. Like an exhalation of pure bliss. Good thing I'd knelt down because I sure as hell didn't have the strength to stand…

My son. Walt's boy. Our child!

I saw myself in the shape of his eyes. I saw Walt in their colour. He had my dark hair – my real hair – and he had Walt's chin. He was a delightful combination of the two of us.

"Papa says you say the eff word way too much," he informed me, still laughing.

Okay, he had a wonderful laugh. Mine? Walt's?

"How do you know that?" I asked him.

Sure, it wasn't freaky to see my son, to talk to him as though he really was there – not freaky at all!

…but in a way, it really wasn't! Maybe it was just too surreal…or maybe it was the drugs. Whatever, however, whyever, I was just going to enjoy it. Go with it, flow with it. It was all some kind of hallucination anyway, right? Like a dream. A fantasy. A 'what if' kind of scenario…

"I hear Papa all the time," John replied simply.

He was touching my face, his fingers like butterflies against my skin. He touched my forehead, my cheeks, my chin…my lips and he looked as fascinated by me as I was by him.

"How do you hear him? When?"

He pressed his forehead against mine, lining his little nose against my own, his blue eyes so close to my dark ones.

"I hear him the same way I hear you, Mama…" and oh, that word! 'Mama'! My poor heart felt squeezed with…love. With wonder. With joy.

"In my head. All around me. In here…" and he placed his little hand on his chest and then on mine. Oh, shit! I was definitely trippin' out…but what a sweet trip, what a wonderful ride!

"That's not possible," I told him.

"Yes, it is! Like right now, you just said 'oh shit'" and he giggled again. "You do swear a lot, Mama," but it was just a simple statement of fact, not a judgement or a reprimand. And it made him laugh.

"You read my mind?" I asked. He nodded, his forehead still pressed against mine.

"I heard you a long time ago. Papa, too. I wanted to be a part of you."

"I don't understand," and I really didn't! None of this made sense, but then again, none of this was real so why should it make sense?

"I saw both of you. I thought you were pretty and Papa is handsome. He's brave, like you. I told Grandfather I wanted to go to you and I did."

Grandfather?

"I wanted to go to a place full of love…I wanted to be a part of that."

"Then why…why did you leave?" and I knew in my heart, in my body, that he had left. I didn't need any damn blood test to tell me I wasn't pregnant anymore…The proof of that was pressing his head against mine, talking to me, real or otherwise.

He pulled a little away from me to run his hands over my face again. I had the feeling he was memorizing me, the way a blind person would.

"I've lived tons of lives, Mama…but the one thing I never had in any of them was love. Never created from love. Never a part of anything beautiful," and how did a four or five year old have this kind of vocabulary, this kind of 'wisdom'? No kid I knew talked this way!

"I felt it the moment I decided to come to you and Papa."

"I still don't understand, John," and I was memorizing _his_ face, touching it, marvelling at it.

"You will," he assured me. "One day, you'll understand it all. Things are changing and not changing," and he was smiling softly now, one hand still on my face, the other playing with my hair.

"I'll never understand why I had to lose you! I'll never understand why I was made to believe I'd never have you in the first place!" And what did changing but not changing mean? Hadn't there been enough changes already?

"I chose YOU, Mama! You were beautiful. You are beautiful. What you and Papa have is beautiful. I wanted that. I needed that and that's all I needed. Your heart, it's so full of Papa! His is so full of you. Not any room left for me. You don't need me to fill anything because both of you are everything to each other."

"You can't say that, John! Your dad and I, we never knew about you. Never expected you! You weren't supposed to happen!"

"I made it happen," he said softly, sounding ashamed. "Grandfather, he warned me, but I didn't listen. I tried to change things, Mama," and he threw his arms around my neck, burying his face against my shoulder.

"I did a bad thing," he admitted, his soft voice muffled against me. His little body shook in my arms and I held him tight. He was crying.

"I never meant to hurt you," he whispered.

Tears blurred my vision. I held him even tighter, brought a hand up to stroke his silky-soft hair.

"It's okay," I told him gently, but my voice was breaking. Was it okay?

"I had to come back to this place, Mama! I did wrong! I know that now. Grandfather, he knew it would end this way and he took me back. He's not mad at me. I shouldn't have done it, but I did! I only wanted to see you, to see Papa, to be a part of you both!"

I didn't know what to say. What could I say? I was so confused. I didn't understand and yet I felt like I did. I had heard some new-age sentiment along the lines of children choosing their parents. I remembered thinking what a pile of bullshit that sounded like, especially considering the way I felt about my own mother, but it sounded like John was telling me he'd done just that!

I had to remind myself that all of this wasn't real; just some kind of drug-induced hallucination. That I was actually back in the hospital, probably sprawled face down on my bed, drooling…

…but this little boy, crying in my arms felt very real to me!

"Don't cry, John," I told him, rubbing his back, holding him closer and closer to me.

"Don't you cry, either, Mama. I never meant to hurt you," and he sounded so much like his father then…or maybe it was just because he was echoing his father's words.

"I'm sorry," he finished softly, hugging me as tightly as I was hugging him.

I sat on the damp ground, pulling him on to my lap. We clung to each other. I did my best not to cry, but a single tear ran down my face. He pulled away from me to find that tear and touch it with his finger.

His sweet little face was wet, his eyes, red and puffy. I used the tail of Walt's shirt to wipe his tears away.

"I'm not mad at you, either, John…Just…I can't help it! I'm sad….sad that I didn't know you were there. Sad that once I found out, it was too late…Can you…" I paused, needing to take a deep breath. I needed to ask, but I was afraid of what his answer would be.

"Can you come back?"

"Not like this….Not the way you want me to, Mama…" and I closed my eyes tightly, not wanting any more tears to fall. I'd expected this, hadn't I? Yeah, but I'd hoped it wasn't true…

"I heard you saying goodbye to me," he continued, "and I asked Grandfather to bring you here so I could say goodbye to you…."

"How am I supposed to say goodbye now that I've seen you?" I asked.

"It's not really goodbye. It's kinda like hello. I just wanted to see you, Mama…to touch you and let you know you would've been a great mom. The best! I know you would've loved me, like you love Papa…and I love you, too."

He leaned close and kissed my cheek.

"Oh, John!"

I held him, tighter and tighter. Closer and never close enough. I kissed his forehead, his cheeks, his little up-turned nose.

"I can't let you go," I told him.

"You can and you will…because Papa needs you. I'll be safe here with Grandfather," and I kept picturing Walt's dad every time John said 'grandfather'. I knew that's not who he was talking about, though…, "but Papa…he's here and he's not supposed to be! You have to save him, Mama! You have to call him back!" John finished and all thoughts of 'Grandfather' left my head.

I looked up. I looked around. I didn't see anything except the damn fog surrounding us.

"I don't see him, John. Where is he?"

John jumped off my lap and grabbed my hand, tugging. I got to my feet and he pulled me forward. He moved as though he could see clearly ahead of him. He moved with confidence and without fear…

"He's right here, Mama!" and sure enough, there he was!

Walt.

I saw him. I saw the fog swirling around him, wrapping itself around him like hands….and I knew those hands would be cold.

He looked so confused. So sad and angry at the same time. He looked lost and so alone…Practically naked in the mist that seemed to want to cling to him. Those whispers I'd heard and that had disappeared when I saw John were back, but they seemed centered around Walt.

I saw him and I knew I'd have to make my choice, my sacrifice all over again…

How was I supposed to let go of the warm, little hand in mine?

John tugged again, pulling me down to his level. His hands on either side of my face, he looked deep in to my eyes, all serious and intent.

"I'm not alone, Mama…Grandfather is here with me. You're not leaving me, you're letting me go…and that's the way it should be. We got to see each other," and he actually smiled, "and I'm so happy about that, but Papa needs you now! He needs to know what's real. I can't help him. He can't see me, not like you can….but you can help him, the way you always do."

"John…."

"It's okay, Mama, honest!" and he threw his arms around my neck again and hugged me tight.

"I love you," he whispered in my ear and then he put his lips against mine and gave me a warm, wet kiss before pulling away. I tried to hold on to him, but he slipped from my arms.

"John, don't go!"

"I have to go, Mama. Papa can't see me. Later, maybe….but one day for sure, you and Papa will come looking for _me_, like you said and we'll be together then."

"We will, I promise!"

"I _know_ you will!" and with one last giggle, he was swallowed up by the fog, disappearing…

"I love you…." I barely got the words out.

I should've gone insane! I should've dropped to the ground, distraught. I should've jumped to my feet and gone after him. I should've died from a broken heart….

I should have, but…and now, this is weird, but I felt the biggest, warmest, most comforting hug I'd ever felt in my life, like huge arms of massive love surrounding me. Strong arms that seemed to lift me to my feet. And I stood. I lifted my chin. My eyes filled, not with the sting of tears, but with the sight of Walt.

Whatever sort of presence had lifted me up, I didn't need it anymore. Whatever emotional mess I might have been, I wasn't.

Walt…

I started walking towards him. Maybe I said his name out loud or maybe he just felt me there. He looked up. He saw me. No more confusion. No more anger. No more looking lost. No more fighting the fog that seemed to want to drag him away. I wasn't about to let that happen! No one and no 'thing' was going to take Walt away from me!

I couldn't fight for John, to keep him with me. I was beginning to understand that in a small way, but there was no law, natural or otherwise, that said I had to like it. He'd told me himself that leaving was the way it had to be….and until I heard that from Walt, I wasn't going to let him go!

I went to him without words, feeling strong and defiant. I held his welcoming, loving gaze with my own and as natural as it had always been between us, once there'd finally been 'us', he opened his arms to me and I stepped in to them. They wrapped around me while I placed my hands against his chest. They tightened around me, while my hands slid up over his bare chest, over his strong shoulders, neither one of us saying a word or breaking eye-contact with each other.

I placed my hands on either side of his face, holding it firmly, making him look down at me, making sure he understood the depth of what I was about to say to him.

"I love _you."_

I told him that. I declared it, not only to him, but to anyone or anything that might be listening…and I knew the fog was listening and looking. "Fuck off and leave my man alone", is what I thought. I felt the fog slip away and I felt a moment of triumph. Then, I stood on tip-toe and with our son's kiss still moist on my lips, I placed my mouth against his, closing my eyes, the way I always did when I kissed him, or he kissed me, no matter where…

He opened his mouth. I opened mine. He crushed me to him. My softness against his hardness; we melted in to each other. Our tongues met. Our saliva mingled; his, mine, John's…and for a moment, we were all together, all a part of each other and any feeling of triumph, of loss, of fear, confusion or doubt was gone.

Hunger. Passion. Desire. A need to possess and be possessed filled me. Filled him. Deep, endless and primal, I felt the attraction that drew us together. Sweet, true and strong, I felt the love between us. Passing John's kiss on to him, I felt like I was the one that had planted that seed and I felt strong. Powerful. Bigger than life and even bigger than Death.

I knew it wasn't going to last. This moment...

Our kiss deepened. Went further than any kiss we'd ever shared. I felt my soul touch his. Entwined. Entanled without the benefit of climaxing together and yet, in some deeper way, we were. Beyond sex, beyond the physical. Beyond everything and all things! Like me, did he know this was going to end? I think so…

…and when it did, when I found myself back in my room, leaning over the edge of the bed, holding myself up with my arms, I should've felt crushed…but I didn't. I felt almost…empowered! Renewed. Strong. Sure.

…and I also felt a little dizzy. No fucking wonder!

Breathe, Vic. Just breathe. In and out. Not that damn hard to do, right?

Oh, sweet Jesus! What the hell had all that been about? What the fuck had Eileen given me? I know I'd already asked that question, but fuck!

I couldn't have been there, but it sure felt like I had been. John's hand in mine. His sweet, wet kiss. His head on my shoulder while he cried – and the shirt I was wearing, Walt's shirt – it felt damp!

No…

I felt damp. I also felt Walt's arms around me, the heat from his body, the fire from our kiss. The strength I'd drawn from him…

No.

Yes.

Yes!

Don't know how, but I had been _there_! Letting go of one to reach for the other. Setting free something that was never meant to be mine to claim what always would be!

That was it! A sign! I'd done what I was supposed to do…and while Walt was lost, he was still alive! HE. WAS. ALIVE!

I'd seen him, I'd felt him, I'd held him!

I pressed my hands against my face, to what? See if I was real? Why did people do that when a deep realization hit them? Maybe, in my case, it was just a way of keeping my head from exploding with the full and unbelievable impact of what had just happened.

So many conflicting emotions. The greatest joy and deepest sorrow at seeing my son. Walt's boy._ Our_ child. Maternal instincts, which I never in a million years would've thought I possessed, making me cling to him and a truly unique love for my child that helped me to let him go.

And then, there was Walt…

Looking dazed, confused, lost and vulnerable in his near nakedness.

Looking angry, bitter and yet strangely resigned. I'd never seen him on such opposite ends of the emotional scale at the same time, except maybe once…but 'resignation' had never been a part of him then, but it had been in that place - that cold, dark place of fog and shadows - until he saw me.

Until I strode towards him like I belonged to him and he belonged to me. All his apprehension had disappeared, all his anger, and his eyes had filled with relief and so much more. Love, trust, hope.

To me, his nakedness had become less about being defenceless and more about being primal. Totally male. Everything that went in to making a man a man.

Grief became comfort in each other's arms. Fear became confidence when I told him I loved him. Sorrow became desire when our lips met and Death became Life.

Life. We gave it to each other. We breathed it in to each other when we kissed. Every time we made love, we created something special…

We created.

A thought, a spark of understanding, a reason where there was no reason…I was beginning to understand some of this. Not all of it, but some of it.

John and his existence/non-existence. Wasn't Walt going through the same thing? It was all connected, in more ways that my sacrifice of one for the other. All connected. All of it meant something…Change and not changing.

Something I couldn't quite get my hands on or my mind around, but there was meaning in the things that had happened. Meaning and purpose.

Meaning, purpose…and something I had to do.

Oh, shit! Where the hell was Henry when I needed him?

Normally, I would've bolted out of the room and gone hunting for him, desperate to have him explain all of this to me, but this time, I stayed calm. Henry was on his journey. Walt was on his and I was on mine. Different paths, but the same destination. At least, that's what I was hoping for.

I dropped my hands. Tucked my hair behind my ears. Thought about John making his apology to me and about me making my own to others. Thought about Walt and though it hurt leaving him behind, leaving both of them behind, I knew he had expectations of me and the things I could do. Better expectations than I'd ever had for myself. My weakness had become strength in his arms…

I wasn't going to let him down. I wasn't going to let our son down, either. I was Vic 'the Terror' Moretti and it was time I started acting like that instead of being Vic, the Broken. Yeah, I was still missing a piece or two, still had to deal with a few things, but I was a fighter and I was going to fight! There was nothing more I could do for John, except remember him and love what might have been, but Walt was still out there somewhere and I'd never stop fighting for him!

I wasn't going to let Henry down, either. Hadn't he told me that a great journey begins with a single, simple step? Yes, he had and so I took that step. And then I took another. Armed with my son's smile and his father's love, I opened the door and stepped out in to the hallway. I kept on walking, eyes forward and though it may have looked like I was walking alone, I knew I wasn't…

Nothing and no one was going to keep Walt and I apart, not even the big guy standing in the doorway to the waiting room.

I came up behind him and I heard him say -

"Man, you are some kind of sight, Trace! I can hardly wait to meet the little spit-fire that did that to you!"

He had a deep, rumbly voice, kind of like Walt's, but too loud to actually make my knees weak. His laugh was nothing like Walt's, though, and that was good. Not that it wasn't a nice laugh; it was…and poor Tracy! Obviously, this guy had to be a friend of his, judging by the familiarity 'Trace' seemed to imply.

Wow, apologizing again to him might just have to top my list! First things first, though…

"Well, turn around, Mr. Tall and Lanky, and let's say 'howdy'."

The snark and the attitude were totally in place. Walt would be so damn proud of me! I even put my hands on my hips, tipped my head up and jutted out my chin just as the big guy turned to look at me. Yeah, he jumped a little, too. That was nice.

He did a double-take when he actually looked down far enough to see me and that was nice, too.

"Well…howdy," he rumbled, extending his big hand out to me while shifting a cardboard box in to his left.

Surprise had turned to humour on his bearded face, along with a touch of admiration. I knew it wasn't my questionable good looks that made him look at me that way. When I reciprocated and extended my hand to him, after appearing to think about it first, he looked at my hand as though almost afraid to take it. But he did. Shook it once, firmly, as I shook his. Then, he hung on to it a moment longer, turning it this way and that in his grasp.

"So, this is the weapon of mass destruction, is it?" he chuckled.

Normally, I would've given him some type of withering look, but Tracy was right behind him and the 'mass destruction' on his face couldn't be missed. I'd done that to him! Okay, not ALL of it, but most of it…and I felt a flush of shame creep up in to my cheeks. Tracy looked a little embarrassed, maybe even a touch exasperated, but it had more to do with this stranger and less to do with me.

"I, uh…" I started, not quite knowing what to say. Okay, so I wasn't quite my 'usual' self. I pulled my hand away.

"I'm Vic Moretti…"

"Jack Colsen."

"A friend of Tracy's, I presume?"

"Your presumption is correct…and might I just say, nice job on rearranging his face. I thought he kinda looked a little lop-sided with that one black eye. More symmetrical with two of them, if I do say so!"

"That's enough, Jack," Tracy cut in. He looked uncomfortable. He pushed Jack aside.

"Just ignore him," he told me. "He's got a big mouth sometimes, but he did bring some food. Are you hungry?"

The way he asked me that, almost gently.

"Tracy, I'm so sorry…about your face…."

"Hey, you already apologized! That's all over and done now, okay?"

"You're a Sheriff, technically my superior officer….You could still arrest me for what I did," and that was certainly true.

"It's over, Vic. Just, I don't know, c'mon, sit down…" and he motioned towards one of the chairs. It was then that I saw the room was empty, except for us. Tracy, Jack me…and Branch.

Whereas Tracy had looked uncomfortable at the first sight of me, Branch looked apprehensive. He was standing there awkwardly, looking like he wanted to come towards me but he didn't.

Okay, then, I'd go to him. I got close. He smiled a little.

"How are you feeling?" he asked softly. "Are you okay?"

"If I asked you that, what would you say?"

"Point taken," he replied. "Tracy told me you saw a doctor….Did she…? Are you…feeling better?"

"I'm not a raving lunatic anymore or at least not as raving as I was! We both know I'm never very far from 'lunatic' in the first place, right?"

He smiled. He really smiled and it lit up his incredible blue eyes. How long had I hated this man? How many times had I wanted to punch his fucking arrogant lights out? How often had I blamed him for so many things?

I didn't want to see any 'good' in him. I didn't want to believe that there could be any good in him, but that smile of his, soft yet full of…concern. The light in his eyes, no longer tinged with superiourity He was happy to see me, despite being worried about Walt. I could see his anxiety. I could feel it and I never, ever thought I'd see the day when he ever felt that way about Walt. Branch had changed…or maybe he'd just become the man he was always meant to be. Even his stance was different now.

I'd never taken the time to notice any of these things about him. I'd just clung to the image I'd always had of him; a callous, self-centered, egotistical little shit, with his puffed out chest and his constant pissing matches with Walt. Then again, Walt hadn't seen him much differently than I did, until…

Well, it went without saying that Walt was a better human being than I'd probably ever be. He could forgive…and sometimes, he could forget and he was more than capable of moving on. Me?

It was hard for me to forget the way Branch had put Walt's life in danger. Hard to forget the way he'd almost taken mine and that insane, homicidal look in his eyes when he held me pinned to the window in the office. I couldn't help searching his face for a glimpse of that guy; maybe my biggest problem was never trusting him. I didn't see any of that in him anymore, though…

It was also hard for me to forget the sight of him that day Barlow had tried to kill him. The day he'd almost lost his life at the hands of his father and the day Walt had almost thrown his away

Change. Everything had changed that day. _We_ had changed that day…and I still hated to think about all that. Hated to think how I couldn't look Walt in the eye let alone Branch. How the two of them had both been suspended. How I'd had to step up and take charge or have someone else step in and take over.

I didn't see either Walt or Branch much, but I knew the two of them spent a great deal of time together at Walt's place. When things got back to normal, as far as work was concerned, there was a huge difference in the way Walt and Branch interacted with each other. I was on the outside of all that. Apart from it. Dealing with my own shit, my own actions and my own feelings, especially towards Walt.

It all seemed almost silly now, but I still hated remembering the way I felt back then. Thank God things had just kind of shifted back to the way they were supposed to be and at the same time, they were changed…

Change.

It was time for that. Time to let go of some things and time to take hold of others; I couldn't help picturing John, feeling his hand slip from mine. Couldn't help picturing Walt and reaching out for him instead…All of this was somehow connected. Everything that happened here tonight was part of a bigger picture. Just like another one of those puzzles I'd thought of before all this had happened. We all had our part to play in this, we were all pieces in someone else's puzzle…and damnit, I hated feeling like I had no control over things, but it was time. Time to look ahead instead of looking back. Time to set things right and move on.

Time for me to look at Branch and see him for who he was now. Time to accept what I found…

..and oh, shit, I wanted to laugh! Thinking these deep thoughts; that was Walt's thing, not mine! Obviously still flying on whatever Eileen had given me…but if it was making me a little introspective right now, well, why not? Like I said, it was time…

So, I looked. I saw a handsome man before me. Sincere concern for my well-being in his eyes. There was still a little apprehension there, but I couldn't blame him for that. I'd hit him, too. I'd kicked him and shoved him away. I'd screamed at him and if he didn't trust me, well….why should he?

But that wasn't really it. It wasn't a lack of trust I was seeing. Just in case, I backed down a bit, made myself relax even though I was wound up so tight. I knew I had to apologize to him, but shit, I hated apologizing! I wasn't very good at it…

"Branch," I started, having to look away for a moment. I glanced back up at him and the room became just me and him. I could hear Tracy and Jack talking, but it was just background noise.

"I'm…I'm really sorry…for the way things went tonight…"

"Vic, it's okay – "

"No, it's not! It's not just tonight I'm sorry about. It's…it's everything that's happened in the last little while."

"Honestly, Vic, it's alright. Don't apologize, please?"

"I have to! I have to say something to you! I have to let you know how…how stubborn I've been, how unwillingly I've been to see that you're not the same little shit I always thought you were!"

"Well, that's good enough, okay? I did things, too. I crossed lines I never should've crossed and I - I deserve your anger."

"No, you don't! Not now. Maybe back then, but not now. Not anymore! I just – I sometimes, I just can't let go of the past, y'know?"

He reached out and put his hands on my shoulders.

"I do know, Vic…and honestly, I understand. I should've made an effort to talk to you, to make you talk to me – "

"And I probably would've slugged you then, so really, what was the use? I'm just…really, I'm so sorry for being blinded to you, for treating you like shit, for turning my back on you and for freaking out on you tonight. I don't know how we're going to end up, but I just want you to know that I've been wrong about you lately and I'm going to try my hardest to just let go of all that and see you the way you are now."

"Okay…I'd appreciate that…and Vic? What happened here tonight? You'll make it, I'm sure…but if…I don't know, if you wanna talk about it, we can do that, okay?"

"Okay…" and I held my hand out to him. He took it, we shook…and then he just pulled me close and hugged me, quickly. We pulled away from each other, both a little awkward, but honestly, it hadn't been as bad as I thought it would be.

"Um…yeah…so, who's hungry?" Jack asked when the silence between Branch and I went on.

He moved past Branch and I to set down his cardboard box on the low table in front of the chairs. Branch almost seemed to jump and grabbed a bouquet of flowers, moving them out of the way. Why was he acting so weird?

"Awww, did you boys get me flowers?" I teased, half wondering if this was why Branch had been so nervous. "Love the vase," I added sarcastically.

"Uh, no! I mean….they're for you, Vic….but they're not from us," Branch stumbled over his words.

It hit me then. As soon as I took a better look at the flowers, I knew. They were from Walt. For me. For Valentine's Day…

We'd talked about this, about roses and colours and meaning. I should've known the moment I saw them. That's when I sat down…hard.

"I'm sorry, Vic…I found them in Walt's truck…"

"Let's all just stop apologizing, okay?" I said.

I meant to say it lightly, but even I heard the edge in my voice. It had nothing to do with Branch finding the flowers and everything to do with where he found them and why it was him giving them to me instead of Walt.

Roller coaster ride. The Emotional Twister. Guaranteed to make you lose your mind, folks!

I couldn't take my eyes off those flowers and then Branch dug in his jacket pocket, hanging on the chair next to me and handed me a small silver box, tied up with a red ribbon.

"I found this, too," he said softly.

I held the box between my hands and felt everyone watching me. I didn't like it.

"Thanks," I told him, trying to sound casual and sincere at the same time. No big deal, right? Just some flowers and a present. I mean, it was Valentine's Day. Nothing weird about that…

"You okay?" Branch asked softly. I nodded.

"Let's eat," I managed to get out, hoping it sounded better than it felt.

Eating was the last thing I felt like doing but the hustle and bustle of getting everything set up and passed out took the attention off me and that's what I really did want.

Branch sat one chair over from me, Tracy and Jack across from us. They were talking softly to each other and Branch, he was watching me and I knew he was wondering if I was okay with the flowers and the present. I gave him a slight smile and took a bite out of my sandwich, to keep up appearances and all.

That seemed to satisfy him and he seemed to relax and took a bite of his own sandwich. All his attention went in to eating and all of mine went to those flowers. If they hadn't been there, I might just have enjoyed my food. It was the best BLT I'd ever had…but those roses _were_ there and I found myself staring at them while I chewed. Staring at them and drifting away to a day not all that long ago. To a night, to more specific, when Walt had taught me about flowers and colours.

Me, finishing up at the office. Walt, out on a call. Everyone else had gone home…

_My cell phone rings. Walt, telling me not to leave; he's on his way back. I smart-mouth him, tell him I've got better things to do than wait for him, but we both know that's not true._

_The sound of his voice, which I've always loved, thrills me as much as his presence does and before long, he's striding through the door, one hand behind his back while the other one reaches for me, takes me by the hand and leads me to his office._

_I want to see what he's hiding, but he won't let me. He's smiling, breathless, as he closes the door behind us, locks it and then pins me against it with his body. I don't care anymore what's behind his back. It's his front that interests me now. Hands on his chest as he leans down to kiss me. Removing them only long enough to knock his hat from his head. Devouring him as he devours me. Pushing off his jacket as he shrugs out of it. Tearing open the snaps on his shirt to feel his bare skin._

_He throws away whatever it is he's been holding behind his back to grab at my shirt, to tear it open and there goes another uniform, but I don't care. Hands fumbling with buckles and belts, snaps and zippers, hooks and hair-ties. _

_Breath, ragged and hot. _

_Lips, crushed and bruised and begging for more._

_Bodies on fire. Love me, tease me. Take me, please me. I'll never get enough of him – he'll never get enough of me. _

_Against the door. On the desk. Finally, the leather sofa. Sated for the moment. Lying in each other's arms. Naked and slick. Breathing calming down, hearts beating a little slower as we return to the world around us. _

_The blanket from the back of the couch covers us. I listen to the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath my ear as I drape myself over him and play footsies with him. He runs his hands slowly over my back and I sigh before opening my eyes._

_I see what was held behind him on the floor now. Flowers. I reach for them. Can't quite make it. He sees what I'm trying to do and reaches out himself, snagging the green paper wrapped bouquet. Orange tulips._

"_For you," he drawls, presenting them to me. Then he laughs softly._

"_I meant to give them to you straight-away, but something came up."_

"_I have the feeling that something was up way before you got here," I smirk at him._

"_Could be you're right," he tells me, kissing my neck._

_I kiss him and take the flowers from him. He slides himself up, just a bit, bringing me with him and I shift my position, sitting in between his legs. He's brought me orange tulips. There's a white one, smack in the middle._

"_These are beautiful," I tell him._

"_Not even close to as beautiful as you are, Vic."_

_He pushes my hair away from my face with one hand while still caressing my back and my shoulders with the other. I can't help but look at him. I find the sight of him after sex to be intoxicating. The smouldering fire in those mesmerising blue eyes of his, the soft, satisfied smile on his lips, the relaxed lines on his face; it all thrills me. To see him this way…to feel him this way! To me, he was the sexiest man on Earth!_

"_Do you know what they mean?" he drawls, his breath tickling my ear as he nuzzles my neck with his lips. He warned me right from the start that he'd never get enough of me, would never get enough of 'us' and damn, it was so true! I felt the same way about him, about us…_

"_That you're happy to see me?" I answer, breathless again. _

_It was hard to be flip with him kissing my neck but apparently, 'hard' for him wasn't as difficult. I feel him stirring against me and he knows it._

"_Always happy to see you, Vic, especially like this," he whispers._

"_No shit!" I laugh against him. _

_He chuckles and leans back, resting his head on the arm of the couch. He looks at me, really looks at me, in that way that only he can._

"_Orange tulips signify energy and enthusiasm. Desire and passion. All those things you've brought back for me, Vic. I wanted to thank you for that."_

_He says it so seriously. He runs a hand over my face, his thumb caressing my bottom lip._

"_You are all those things to me," he whispers, replacing his thumb with his mouth. I was breathless before he kissed me. I'm even more-so when he removes his mouth from mine and just reclines there, gazing at me._

"_What does the white one mean?" I manage to get out._

"_I'll love you, forever…" and the way he says it shakes me. Makes silly tears of joy well up in my eyes._

"_Who needs roses?" I whisper._

"_For Valentine's Day, I'll get you some, Vic. Red roses are the ultimate symbol of love and devotion, although the white ones, well, they're not as straight forward as the tulips are."_

"_How do you know all this shit?" I ask, marvelling at his knowledge and caring._

"_I wanted to get you something as special as you are to me, so I did some research."_

"_And white roses mean?"_

"_A lot of different things. Sympathy, new beginnings, reverence. Spirituality, innocence and youth. Sometimes, they even mean 'I want to marry you'…"and he trails off there with a gleam in his eyes._

"_Well, good thing you got me a white tulip instead! Otherwise, we might just be engaged." I say it lightly, but that shine in his eyes leaves me wondering. White roses for Valentine's Day? He wouldn't be that hokey, would he?_

"_We'll get around to that," he promises. He kisses my forehead, softly. "Red and white roses together also stand for Unity, Vic…and we are that! Always have been." He sounds quiet, that kind of quiet that means he might be drifting off._

"_Always will be," I tell him. I snuggle up to him._

"_You going to sleep?" I ask. _

"_Nope…"_

"_Liar!" and I tug on his chest hair. "We can't stay here, Walt."_

"_Maybe not till morning, but we can stay a little longer…"_

"_You're gonna fall asleep."_

"_Nope, I'm not. In fact, sleeping's the furthest thing from my mind." He runs his hands over my shoulders, down my back, arching his lower body against me._

"_Get up her, girl, 'cause I'm feeling a little 'orange'," and I laugh. I also comply, setting the flowers gently on the floor before I straddled him, lean down so that our noses are touching._

"_I love my flowers, Walt…and I love you." I kiss him softly. "I'm also partial to this 'special delivery' you've got going on."_

"_I swear you're going to be the death of me, Vic. I mean, I'm at the age, entering 'heart attack' territory", but he laughs. _

"_Bullshit! You've got a strong heart, Walt. You can handle me. Besides, you always start it, anyway!"_

"_Yeah, right!" He slaps my ass with his big hands. "You started it the day you walked in to this place!"_

"_Only wish I'd done it sooner," is all I can think to say. Then, I pretty well stop thinking. My lips touch his._

"_I'll always love you, Vic," he says softly against my mouth, "and I want you to love me the way you do. I told you I'd never get enough of you. I never will," and I love him. Then he loves me, again and all over…_

"Oh, Walt…"

My vision blurred for a moment. He bought me roses for Valentine's Day, just like he said he would…Did he think about the individual colours and their meaning when he picked them out, or just the unity of the two colours combined?

Red for love and devotion.

White…new beginnings? Reverence? Did he want to marry me?

I looked at the box I'd placed beside the flowers on the table. My present. It didn't look like a ring box. It was too flat, too long. No, Walt wouldn't be so predictable, he wouldn't ask me to marry him on Valentine's Day! But maybe…

I took one of the white roses from the 'vase'. I wondered who's idea it had been to put them in a toilet brush holder.

A perfect, beautiful white rose. Purity. Innocence. I thought of John. Would it always hurt like this every time I thought of him? Loss and sympathy…

I was reading too much in to these flowers. Seeing them separately instead of looking at them together. Unity was what they represented, the message Walt had wanted to convey to me. It was only this night, the things that had happened, that made me look for other meanings, made me see other meanings in these simple flowers. Just my muddled head. The trauma, the shock, the drugs.

I took a deep breath and forced myself back to what was…

The room had gone quiet, the atmosphere, heavy and charged. The bite of sandwich in my mouth went from delicious to tasting like cardboard and I almost choked on it when I dragged my eyes away from those flowers and saw a newcomer in our midst.

Dr. Burgess…

I knew it was him.

Standing in the doorway. In his scrubs. Looking exhausted. Blood on his top – Walt's blood.

My heart stopped. I couldn't breathe. The white rose was still clutched in my hand. It was screaming 'sympathy and loss' at me. I'd lost enough already! Did I think that out of hope or fear? Who the hell knew?

I threw it down. I spat out the food that was blocking my throat. I gasped. It sounded like a sob to my ears. It felt like what remained of my heart was being torn out of me. I wasn't ready for this! I couldn't take this!

I tried to read his face, but I couldn't. He only looked tired. Was there a touch of defeat there? Why couldn't I read him?

Because…I was panicking. I was losing control and I had to get it back!

"Nothing gets to me," I muttered, picturing Walt when he'd said that to me, so long ago.

Picturing his stoic face, knowing it wasn't true, but admiring his determination to make it so. What he felt inside was no one's business but his own and if I was ever going to breathe again, then I needed to be like him. I was like him! I could get through this…

"Which one of you is Vic?" Dr. Burgess asked quietly.

He had a bit of an accent; Southern. Kentucky, maybe…Why the hell was I analyzing him? Because…because I had to do something to squash the panic his presence was bringing to me! To all of us.

Apprehension, mixed with a barely perceptible hope seemed to have settled down around everyone in the room. I felt it like a weight that kept me firmly seated in my chair, but I wasn't about to let it keep me there. I couldn't do anything for John, but I could do something for Walt. I could get to my feet and meet this head-on. I could stand, the way he would, and face what was coming. Expressionless. Seemingly emotionless. Unafraid…Yeah, right.

"I'm Vic," I responded, surprised at how calm that came out.

There it was, the old double-take on Dr. Burgess's part. Not unexpected at all. I was aware of the others around us, but it all came down to me and this man. Focused in like a laser, he was all I saw.

He was younger than I imagined he would be. A good thing? He let out a sigh, removing his cap to reveal thick, dark hair, messy and damp with sweat. He had dark eyes and a good five o'clock shadow going on. Lean face. Average height and build, with strong looking shoulders and capable looking hands. Steady hands. A surgeon's hands.

I prepared myself for the surgeon's arrogance as I asked how Walt was. So calmly, as though Walt was only here for the usual stitches and aspirin. So dispassionately, as though I were asking this doctor about the weather, not really caring much about the answer. Whatever it took to keep it together…

"Y'all don't mind if I have a seat, do ya?" he asked. "I'm beat."

The rustle of bodies moving out of his way as he entered the room. Him, motioning for me to resume my seat.

"Please," he added for me alone. "I can't be sittin' when a lady's standin'."

I sat on the edge of my seat. He fell in to a chair across from me

"It's been a long night," he sighed.

"No shit," I retorted.

Okay, so Walt had me beat hands down in the 'emotionless' department. That wasn't anything new to me or anyone who knew me. Branch and Tracy didn't react one bit to my agreement with Dr. Burgess. I thought I heard Jack snicker and I definitely saw the doctor's eyes widen.

I had to admit, his 'relaxed' demeanor was a surprise to me, too, while taxing my patience at the same time. Another area where Walt was the true champ…

God, I had to stop thinking about him! Stupid, right? How was I supposed to NOT think about him when this was ALL about him?

My body couldn't disassociate. My heart had started beating again, frantically. My hands wanted to shake, but I clasped them together and made them behave. My breath wanted to catch, but I forced it in and out. I couldn't totally control my body, but I could try my best to control my mind, my actions and appear calm, despite my crazy thoughts and runaway emotions.

"How's Walt?" I reiterated with more force this time.

"He's out of surgery," was the reply.

"Kinda figured that, so quit dancing around and just answer the question, okay?" Calm was one thing; polite? Well, no one could ever accuse me of being THAT!

"The surgery went well. Better than I anticipated, actually."

"Meaning?" I prompted him with a raised eyebrow and a look that could have frozen the tropics.

I think I wanted him to be arrogant, to go all 'medical' on me. I wasn't sure how to handle his laid back approach or attitude. I wasn't expecting it and that made me respond to him with my hackles raised. What the fuck?

"Meaning that instead of havin' to remove Walter's spleen, I was able to go in and repair it. Took a lot longer, but in the end, he'll be better off for it."

So, Walt had injured his spleen. From Tracy's description of Walt's appearance, I'd thought as much, had been prepared for it. I'd seen enough traffic accidents, aftermaths of bar-fights, and just plain stupidity-caused injuries in my career to have a good knowledge of what it was that Tracy had described to me; what I'd made him describe to me.

"Uh, excuse me, Doctor," Branch piped up, "but could you maybe just back up a bit and start from the beginning?"

I almost forgot that Branch hadn't been privy to the conversation between Tracy and myself. Out of my new-found respect for him ( shit, that was weird) I backed off and tried my best to curb my impatience. Walt was out of surgery; that was a good thing…but there was something in this doctor's eyes and attitude that hardly set me at ease.

"Walter was brought in – "

I reached out, put my hand on the doctor's arm. I had to stop this.

"Don't call him that," I said. "No one around here calls him 'Walter'. It's just…it's just… 'Walt'," and damnit, why did my voice have to break saying his name out loud? Just 'Walt'? Had I really said it like that?

His dark eyes locked with mine for a moment, conveying some kind of understanding. Honestly, who the hell was 'Walter'? 'Walter' was just some guy.

'Walt', well, he was the most important man in the world to me and if we were going to sit here talking about him, then let's damn well talk about HIM! Make it real. Handle it! Find out all there was to know and then deal with it…and never, ever lose sight of the fact that I was still feeling his arms around me, still feeling his kiss, still hearing his heart beat in my ears…

As long as all those things felt more real to me than most of this did, I could hang on – and I did. Cleared my throat, sat back. Let the doctor turn his attention to Branch, back to all of us and then back to me again. He knew, without asking or being told, that I was the closest person in this room to Walt and I felt like thanking him for that, for not making me explain our relationship with mere words…

"Walt was brought in with some obvious trauma, sustained in an MVA. It was pretty dang hard to miss that tree branch stickin' out of his leg, after all."

He took my hands in his and squeezed, as though asking me if I was okay going over this again. I nodded, slipping my hands from his. His support was nice, but I couldn't allow myself to rely on it. Did he understand that? I actually think he did! He interlaced the fingers of his hands, rested his elbows on his knees and continued, walking us through his initial examination.

"He had superficial cuts on his face, a deeper gash above his left eye, requiring stitches. No big deal, but what concerned me the most were the clear signs of internal injuries, internal bleedin' when it came to his vital signs. We got him undressed and as soon as I saw the swellin' and bruisin' in his abdomen, I knew we had a situation on our hands."

Okay, yes, I respected Branch, but my impatience didn't.

"Just fucking tell me how Walt is," I interrupted. "Sorry, Branch, but how he looked when he came in and what he's like now are two very different things and I don't give a damn about 'what was', only what IS!"

"Okay…yeah, you're right, Vic. I just…y'know…"

And yeah, I did know, but there wasn't time for all this. Out of surgery Walt may be, but I knew he wasn't out of danger.

"Okay, long story made short," Dr. Burgess began. "Like I said, I managed to repair his spleen, the most obvious source of his internal bleedin'. Took some time and then I had to make sure I hadn't missed any other injuries, aside from the one to his leg. What y'all have to understand is that the longer a patient is kept under, the harder it is on his body. I wasn't sure about the branch, how much damage it might have done, whether or not it had actually sliced his femoral artery. If it had, leavin' it there was keepin' him from bleedin' out, but it couldn't stay there. So, I waited for him to stabilize. His vitals improved and I set about doin' some prunin'. I say we pulled it out, but it was a bit more complicated than that. We put a pressure cuff around his thigh, the way you'd apply a tourniquet to stop bleedin', and so, it was a complete surprise to me when he went off like old Faithful! I knew right then I was dealin' with more than one puncture to his femoral artery!"

Dr. Burgess sat back and ran both hands through his hair.

"He didn't – You said he was out of surgery!" I jumped to my feet.

"Calm down," he told me. "Sit back down and let me finish…"

My first instinct was to run out of the room, tear this damn hospital apart looking for Walt if that's what it came down to. I knew something was wrong! Just as I'd known it before and the moment Branch showed up at the cabin.

"Sit down, Vic," he ordered. "You can't see him right now, anyway."

I hesitated. He pointed to my chair.

"He's alive, I promise…"

I sat.

"When the heart is pumpin' blood in to somethin' other than the body, it works harder. Doesn't get any kind of return for its efforts. I found the first bleed and fixed it. The second one, though…that one was harder to find and while I was huntin' for it, well…Walt's heart stopped beatin'. Cardiac arrest. Not totally unexpected. In fact, it was kinda a blessin' in disguise. Without the blood being circulated, I was able to find the second bleed. Smaller, harder to see, but I found it, fixed it and then we started his heart again."

"You left him like that? His heart stopped and you just….left him?" No! No way! I felt my fists clench. I found my grasp on 'control' slipping. I felt the bottom drop out of my world, just imaging that strong heart of Walt's just…stopping. NO!

I was on my feet again. Dr. Burgess was obviously no dummy. He was on his now, going on the defensive.

"I saved his life! I had to take the opportunity to do what needed doin'. We got him back, Vic."

"Did you shock him back?" I demanded to know.

"We had to."

"You bastard!" I went to take a swing. Branch caught my arm just before my fist connected with the doctor's chin.

"Calm down, Vic!" he yelled, holding me back. "For Walt's sake, just calm the fuck down!"

"His heart!" was all I was able to get out. The thought of it stopping, of things just going on while he lay there, technically dead – no, I couldn't take that!

"Didn't you hear the rest of it?" Branch demanded. "Walt's alive! That's all the matters, right? He's alive!" and while I was seething, Branch was almost giddy with relief.

"Not quite celebration time yet," Dr. Burgess cut in, taking a step back.

"Just what the hell does that mean?" and amazingly enough, it wasn't me asking that question, it was Branch. If I hadn't been ready to cause him some serious bodily harm, I might've felt sorry for the doctor. He was surrounded by me, Branch and Tracy. Jack looked ready to join the fray if need be.

"He's on his way to ICU. Probably there now and trust me when I tell you, his heart stoppin' honestly didn't affect him in any negative way. I don't know what it is, for sure, but for some reason, he's just not respondin' the way he should be."

"Not responding?" Good thing Branch could talk. I was too busy grinding my teeth together

"His vitals are stable, his heart rate good, but for some reason, he's just not comin' out of it the way he should be. I ran him through the CT scanner to make sure I got him all patched up and I did. Everythin's good…but he's just not comin' back the way he should be."

"What the hell does that mean?" Branch wanted to know.

"It means," I growled, glaring at Dr. Burgess, "that you better take me to Walt and you better do it now!"

…and here I was in this glass-walled room, standing at the foot of Walt's bed.

Dr. Burgess had explained to me that even though Walt had his spleen, there was a chance he was more susceptible to infection and it was best to take precautions. Monitors beeped, IV's dripped, some of them delivering fluids and antibiotics, another one providing blood to make up for what Walt had lost.

This was no dream, no 'out of body' experience, no flight of fancy. This was real. This was Walt and the aftermath of his accident. The world went on around us outside of this room. Rubber-soled shoes squeaked on shiny tile floors just to remind me that we weren't alone.

I wasn't ready to look at his face so I started my inspection from the bottom of the bed, moving slowly upwards. As real as this was, it seemed unreal.

He lay there, so damn still, a soft blue blanket covering him up to his waist. A silly part of my mind couldn't help but imagine how well his dark blue eyes would contrast with this. So stupid, so inconsequential, especially when I saw that his left leg was exposed and bandaged near the top of his thigh. That must've been where the tree branch had been. I imagined that, too and shuddered.

My eyes travelled up slowly and I saw the scar from his surgery just under his ribcage, left side, and it looked painfully red and cruel, bruised and just plain ugly. Stapled up. Just thinking about that made me cringe inside. Stapled! I couldn't help wondering if somehow, in some way, he'd felt all this. Ridiculous, I know, but still I wondered and felt like crying yet again.

I dragged my gaze away from that ugliness and let it linger on those soft grey and brown hairs that covered his chest. He'd been cleaned up, but there was still a bit of dried blood matting a small spot. Bruised and battered, but his chest was rising and falling as though he were only sleeping. Sleeping deeply…

I couldn't put it off any longer. I had to look at his face.

Small cuts on his left cheek and a glaringly white bandage just over his left eye, partly covered by a thick lock of his light brown hair. He had stitches under that bandage. Good old black stitches and it was going to be just one more scar to add to his collection.

His face. His handsome, strong face… Eyes closed. Lines relaxed. Only sleeping…but even his perpetual tan couldn't hide the paleness that told me he wasn't just sleeping. He was fading away…

In spite of everything Dr. Burgess had done, he was slipping away.

"Why?" I wanted to ask him.

I moved to stand beside him. To push the hair from his forehead. I hated touching him with this damn latex glove between us. I couldn't tell if he felt warm or cold. I ran my hand over the undamaged side of his face, the side closest to me and his image blurred.

I took his hand in my other one. Limp. Unresponsive. I squeezed it anyway. I thought about germs and all the ones Walt and I had shared. I thought about wanting to 'feel' him and weighed the risks. I tore the gloves off. One hand back on his forehead, the other back to holding his hand.

"Where are you, Walt?" I whispered hoarsely. Still in that fog? Still lost?

"Don't you dare leave me like this!" I told him. "Let's not do that payback thing, okay?"

I couldn't stop my voice from shaking. I couldn't keep the tears from falling. I couldn't be Vic the Terror anymore. Crying for Walt was never part of the deal anyway.

Where was the man I loved? The strong, tough, bigger than life man who could sweep me off my feet with one arm? Why wouldn't he just wake up and look at me with those amazing blue eyes of his?

I used the hem of my gown to wipe my eyes, taking my hand from Walt's forehead only long enough to do that. I wasn't going to let go of his hand again, not even for a second.

"Look, you stupid fuck, wake the hell up so I can kick your scrawny ass!"

Tears weren't working; maybe swearing and threats would. Walt had never failed to respond to my foul mouth, even if the response had become nothing more than an exasperated sigh, a pointed glare, a roll of his eyes, sometimes, even a chuckle after all these years of listening to it. The entire shock value had worn off a long time ago.

Still nothing.

What else was I supposed to do? Slap him? Punch him? Yell at him? Those things had worked when I'd gone after him when he'd gone after Nighthorse…or maybe it wasn't those things that had stopped him then. They'd certainly gotten his attention after the third slap and the first punch, but had they turned the tide?

I'd gone from the physical to the emotional, pleading with him, begging him to stop, to think, to not do something that would end up destroying his life…

"You always end up breaking me," I whispered close to his ear, stroking his forehead. "You get me all worked up. Make me hate you. Make me think I hate you…and then you wait. I kick things around, I yell and swear. I curse you to Hell and back, wearing the shit out of myself and then…"

I had to stop. My voice failed me. I couldn't speak. There was such a lump in my throat, almost choking me. It wasn't just my voice shaking now; it was my entire body, inside and out. Every bit of pain and grief I'd ever been through, every ounce of terror and loneliness I'd ever felt welled up inside of me and got caught in my throat. I was going to die if I didn't get it out. Fuck it! I tore the mask off and pressed my lips against his forehead.

"You broke me that night, Walt!" It was a sob, a threat of what was to come, only the beginning...

I was back on his front porch that cold January night, huddled in the wicker chair. Listening to him inside, playing the piano. A sad, beautiful melody. I'd meant to just storm in to the cabin and give him hell, but instead, I'd lost my nerve and chose hiding over confrontation, knowing that wasn't the way, but too afraid to face him. I thought if I just sat there quietly, I could be with him without giving in to him, but he found me there… He stayed outside when I refused to come inside.

"You made me tell you everything just by saying nothing! No questions, no judgements. Just you, looking at me. Waiting… and it was all because you said you loved me!"

I was feeling the same anger I'd felt that night. Mad then because I felt he'd 'won'. Mad now, because he was the one that didn't feel up to the fight this time. I cried, but they were tears of frustration. I did nothing to stop them from running down my face, to land on his.

"I hated you for that! I hated you for making me look at myself, for making me weak. I felt safe loving you when I thought you'd never love me back and then you went and said it and I ran. I didn't understand how you could say that and mean it! Not about me."

I squeezed his hand, harder.

"I wanted to keep on running, to keep hating you, to be right and make you wrong….but I couldn't do it! I kept thinking about you being lost on that mountain, thinking it was you in that body bag. You, facing down Chance Gilbert to save me and I just couldn't keep lying to myself anymore. I loved you! I fucking loved you, like I've never loved anyone else and I came back to you, broken, defeated…"

I pressed my forehead against his and tried to calm my breathing.. Cried and cried some more.

"I came back to you because of those things and I came back in spite of the way you'd gone after Nighthorse, so ready to give everything up to avenge Martha…"

Seeing that, how was I supposed to believe that he loved me? That was the reason I ran. If he loved her that much, how could he really love me? The bottom line was, though, that I loved him and I had to tell him. I'd been prepared to say it and then just walk away, not run blindly again. But things hadn't gone that way…

"I didn't know how broken I was until you took me in your arms. Until you held me and told me the truth about everything. Until you kissed me and I felt you crying…and you were just as broken as I was."

I'd never cried this hard in my entire life, not even that night, when I thought I'd never stop crying. I seemed to have an endless supply of tears and sobs now.

"Come back to me, Walt," I pleaded. "We've been through too much together to let it end like this…Wherever you are, come back to me! Come back to me, the way I came back to you. Let's make everything right all over again! Let's hold each other so I can tell you…tell you about…about John. So we can cry together and move on together."

I kissed his eyelids. I kissed the tip of his nose. I touched my lips to his…

"I never thought we'd ever have to go through anything like that again," I blubbered. Not a nice word, but it wasn't a nice sound.

"But maybe we do…One more time, Walt. Just one more time and then we'll move on…" and I was thinking of ways to do just that. Change. It was coming, it was inevitable but as John had basically said, 'everything and nothing changes'.

"I love you and I'm not going to let you go. I won't!" and I kissed him.

I kissed him and didn't even jump when I felt a soft touch on my shoulder. I wasn't even surprised when I turned and found Eileen, dressed like me, standing right behind me. To tell the truth, I was relieved to find her there. We just looked at each other for a moment. I wiped at my face with my free hand.

"It's okay, Victoria," she said softly.

She seemed to make a chair materialize out of nowhere and she gently eased me in to it. I was sitting on Walt's right side, his relatively undamaged side and all I could think to do was very carefully lay on arm over his waist. Just as carefully, I laid my head against his chest, listening to him breathe. Listening to his heart beat while Eileen rubbed my back.

"He's just as handsome as you said he was," I heard Eileen say somewhere under the sound of Walt's heart.

Thump…thump…thump.

He was alive. Alive, but still lost.

I held him as best I could. I felt his chest rise and fall beneath me. I felt my breathing match his. I felt my heart follow the beating of his.

"I shouldn't be crying," I said.

"I'd be worried about you if you weren't," she told me

"What did you give me? I told you not to - !

"I didn't give you anything, I swear. You don't need a reason or an excuse to cry, Victoria. You've been through a lot tonight."

If I chose to believe that she hadn't doped me up, then what was the explanation for my little trip to the land of fog and shadows? I glanced at her only long enough to look for the truth. I saw openness and honestly, caring and concern. She wasn't lying.

"I'm scared," I admitted, trusting her with that admission, "and I shouldn't be. I need to be strong for Walt."

"You need to be who and what you are, Victoria. That's what you need to be for Walt. Nothing more and nothing less."

Eileen rubbed my back. I closed my eyes. I listened to Walt's heart, slow and steady, like the beating of a drum. It lulled me. Made me feel drowsy.

"No drugs?" I just had to ask again.

"No drugs," she assured me.

"Then how do you explain that I saw my son? Our son?"

"I can't, but would you want me to, even if I could?"

"Do you believe me?"

"Do _you_?"

Did I believe? All I had to do was think of John and I could see his sweet face, hear his infectious laughter, could feel his hands on my face. Yes, I believed!

"He's out there somewhere, with Walt. He told me he can't come back, not the way I want him to…and what if Walt can't come back, either? Or if he does, what if he's 'changed'?"

That thought brought on a moment of panic. I gave a start, opening my eyes. Eileen pressed a hand against my back, gently, but firmly. She pulled my hair away from my face and leaned in close to me.

"Don't lose hope, Victoria. Don't let the sight of him here like this frighten you."

I looked at Walt's face, that face I loved like no other, scars and all. Tears slid from my eyes.

"If you could've seen him before all this….If you knew him the way I knew him…If you could see the man who's not afraid of anything – well, okay, sometimes he's scared, but he never shows it, never lets it stop him. If you could see the Walt I know, then you'd be scared, too. He should be back here, with me. He should be opening those blue eyes of his, giving me a lopsided, goofy grin, all doped up…"

"I can see that man you're describing, Victoria. He's still there, but maybe…well, maybe he's got things to do before he comes back."

I actually had to laugh just a little at that. Maybe there were things he had to do. After what I'd seen and experienced, it didn't seem far-fetched at all. I cradled the undamaged side of his face in my hand. Felt the roughness of his whiskers.

"You better have a damn good reason for leaving me waiting, Walt," I told him, sounding like I wanted nothing more than to kick his ass for leaving me hanging.

That's when I burst in to tears again. I lay my head back down on his chest while Eileen did her best to comfort me. There really wouldn't be any comfort for me until Walt woke up. He had to! He just had to! I'd made my sacrifice…and I felt myself letting go of John's hand again.

"If there's something you have to do, Walt," I whispered, "then do it and come back to me. So much to tell you and so much I want to say to you…"

…and I thought about it all, feeling myself being lulled again by the rhythm of his heart.

"There's something I want to ask you. Something I need to ask you, before you ask me. Some big changes we have to make…Come back to me because I love you…"

…and then, I just drifted away.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's note:**

**So, Walt's about to meet someone in that 'other' place. Poor guy, he's had a rough time of it and me thinks it's only going to get rougher! I know, for me, this is a very short chapter. I didn't want to end it here, but it does make a rather good cliffhanger, if I do say so myself...and y'all know how I like my cliffhangers!:) Just a reminder to check out HNYWalt and HNYVic as I've updated both of those, too.**

**You all have been so patient with me - just hang in there a little longer:). The house is sold as of Oct. 3 and know I just have to clean it out and move...no big deal, right? I keep telling myself that! LOL. Don't worry, I'll be back...:):).**

**Chapter 12**

Tears on my face. Not my own. Vic's voice, telling me something I couldn't understand. I couldn't see her, but I knew where the tears were coming from.

I felt a pain, so deep and sharp in my heart…

I couldn't see anything, but I could feel and it felt like my heart was on fire and then, I remembered…

Owl Man. The One Who Guards the Hanging Road. The drums had called me. I'd followed them. That sonofabitch had hit me with lightning!

"You sure do have a way of pissing people off around here, wasichu."

My first thought was that Owl Man was standing over me, just waiting to finish me off, and while he might laugh, I somehow didn't think he'd laugh quite this way. It would be just a little more nefarious. I struggled to open my eyes; I couldn't.

"His name's actually Marvyn, but you can keep calling him Owl Man if you like."

"Just who the hell _are_ you?" I managed to croak out. I wanted to move, to see, but I just couldn't manage either one. I thought I was done before, but this time?

"Who are _you_?" the man asked. Then he laughed again.

"I know who you are!" he gleefully answered his own question," You're the wasichu dumb enough to poke not only one bear, but two! Okay, okay, I'll grant you the fact that Marvyn looked like an owl, but you sure did poke Standing Bear and he poked you back!" He laughed, yet again.

"Wasichu, I have to tell you, you're one funny Whiteman! I haven't laughed so hard in years!" Again with the guffaws.

I was gaining a little control of my body. I could blink. Could move, a bit

"I'm so glad that you find this all so amusing," and my voice sounded a bit better, although laced with sarcasm, it was hard to tell.

'Oh, this beats Seinfeld re-runs any day!" and Jesus, could the guy just quit laughing? Okay, I was propped up on an elbow. My eyes were open, but they wouldn't focus. Everything around me was spinning

"Where the hell am I?" I wanted to know.

"Well, I could say that Owl Man knocked you right back in to yesterday…Would you like that?"

"What I'd like is for you to quit with the damn jokes and just tell me where I am!"

"Honest to Me," and he chuckled, "when Owl Man hit you, you flew, wasichu! You flew so far that I'm pretty sure you over-shot Yesterday and landed in Long Ago."

"Will. You. Just. Knock it. Off? Tell me where the hell I am!" I was angry now.

"Just open your eyes and you'll see," came back the light reply.

"They're open! I can't see anything!"

"Open your eyes!" and this time, it was a command, not a quip. And I opened them, surprising myself; I would've sworn they were open before. What I saw was not what I'd been expecting to see.

Gone was the forest and the fog. Gone were the dancers and the drums. Gone was the darkness, the never-ending twilight.

In its place, I saw…

A fire, burning nicely, dug in to a hole in the ground, surrounded by rocks. I saw furs. I was laying on them. Another one covered me. I saw rough poles around me, coming together as I looked up. I saw….I saw Henry's grandfather, sitting cross-legged through the fire, opposite me.

This was Long Ago. This was back when I was a kid, hanging out with Henry and his grandfather, Joseph, in his tipi down by the river. Listening and learning the wisdom and the ways of Henry's Elders, the Cheyenne people. The Lakota, the Sioux and the Arikiras…

"I know we look alike, but I'm not Joseph," the old man told me with a smile.

I was sure I knew this place! I remembered it, all of it!

"But this is – " I began.

"_This_ is what_ you_ want it to be. I am who you want me to be…and so it is."

I sat up, the fur puddling around my hips. I looked around me. Looked closely. Turned my attention to the old man. Studied him intently through the firelight.

No, he wasn't Joseph. The eyes were wrong. This man's eyes were deep, dark like bottomless pools, but there was a light in them I just couldn't describe. And while Joseph had certainly been old, this man seemed ancient. Not so much in looks, but in his presence. Again, I couldn't describe it, but I felt it. Ancient and Powerful…

…and probably only about five foot six. Hard to tell with him sitting, but I was sitting, too…and even that way, I towered over him, or probably would've if I hadn't been too weak and sore to sit completely upright.

Oh, shit…that bolt of lightning must've messed my brain up! My chest still hurt, like maybe Horse had decided to tap-dance on it and I felt woozy. I tried to get up anyway.

"Where are you going?" the old man asked mildly.

"Out. Away from here."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Standing Bear is still out there, maybe not looking for you, but definitely looking for trouble and if you cross his path…" the old man shrugged. "Besides, if he sees you, he'll know where I am and I'm not ready for him just yet."

"He's after you?"

"Let's just say he wants to have a little talk with me…about you, among other things."

"I don't understand any of this!" I growled in exasperation.

"Maybe not now, but you will. Come. Sit. You've been through a lot. It was fun for a while, but now you need to rest."

I couldn't have stood much longer even if I'd wanted to, so I sat back on the furs, Indian-style. When in Rome…

"How did I get here?" I asked.

"I brought you here."

"You?" I pointed at him, unable to keep the disbelief from my voice. "You're like what? – one hundred and two years old? Maybe weigh a hundred and twenty soaking wet?"

"Okay, I was watching the show. Marvyn zapped you even though I told him not to, so I made him help me get you here," and he swept a hand across the fire and pointed to a darker spot in the tipi. A pile of furs, I thought, until it moved and then I almost jumped right out of my skin.

It wasn't furs. It was Owl Man – Marvyn, still dressed in his feathers, staring silently at me. No expression. Not even the slightest movement. Still as a bronze statue…

Okay, then. Maybe Marvyn had helped this old guy get me here, but I'd been at that ceremony. I'd been watching it and I hadn't seen this old man anywhere. If he'd told Owl Man not to zap me, he must've been close enough to do that and there hadn't been anyone close to Owl Man.

"Really? Honestly? Just – just stop with the bullshit, okay?"

"You don't believe me?"

"I never saw you there!"

"You've never seen me anywhere, but that doesn't mean I haven't been around. You never saw Marvyn until I pointed him out to you and he's just four feet away from you." Always with that little smile. That 'knowing' smile.

"You're creepin' me out, y'know that?"

"Oh, I know it!" and he laughed again. Yet, Still.

"Well, could you maybe just stop it and give me some straight answers for a change?"

"Could you maybe just chill out and try to relax for a change, wasichu?" He spread his arms wide.

"Everything you want and need is right here for you."

"An old man and a guy dressed as an owl? This is your idea of my wants and needs? Buddy, I don't think we're on the same page here."

"Then let's turn the page, or better yet, let's go back to the beginning of the book and start over."

"Alright, that's it! One moment, I'm thinking I'm dead. The next, I'm sure I'm in some kind of purgatory. I've seen and talked to people that I know are dead and I was told to follow my heart. The drums called me. Brought me through the woods and that guy," I pointed a finger at Owl Man, "he decides to zap me and I wind up here, with a raving lunatic and a guy who thinks he's an owl. Look, why don't you just kill me and get it over with, okay? I cannot take any more of this shit!"

"Why would I want to kill you, wasichu?" and he asked it with a touch of amusement.

"Why do you want to torment me like this?"

"You torment yourself…"

"See? That's the kind of shit I'm talking about! I ask a question and you either answer me with one or get all new-age on me!"

'Why would you even think I had the power to kill you? I'm just a puny old man, right? Marvyn, well, he was just trying to stop you from doing something that wasn't meant for you. It's his job. Off duty, which he is now, he's really pretty harmless. He's more a pacifist than an antagonist. He just takes his job seriously, y'know? Kinda like you…"

Crazy-town. That's where I was now! This old man, he was some kind of…demon, sent to drive me nuts! Apparently, I'd already gone there to even be thinking things like this, but I was only trying to make some sense of it all. Unfortunately, I was stuck with someone who made no sense of anything! A thought hit me. Maybe this was Coyote. I mean, why not? I was stuck in some kind of Indian 'after-life' and I remembered Joseph's stories. Coyote was a trickster, a clown and this guy sure fit the bill.

"What do you know about me?" I asked.

'More than you think you know about _me_," he countered. "You think I'm Coyote. I could be…but I'm not. You know who I am," and again, yet and still, that smile. That twinkle in his dark eyes. That feeling of Power, Antiquity and now, a great big dose of Mystery, came over me. I felt myself drowning in his eyes. I felt my head spinning and I saw things that I knew I shouldn't have been able to see.

I saw Henry out in the night, on his knees, arms upraised to the sky, praying, yelling, tormented. I saw Cady, pacing in an airport, upset but trying not to let it out. I saw Ruby at her home, lighting a candle and opening her Bible. I saw Branch inside my wrecked truck, holding the flowers I'd bought for Vic, crying. I saw Tracy, burying his face in his hands while he leaned forward in his chair in a waiting room and I knew he blamed himself for what had happened to me.

I saw Vic, wearing one of my shirts, the dark brown one, a sort of flannel, that she liked so much on me. She'd told me once it was just made for petting. She was sitting on a hospital bed, one hand playing with a dreamcatcher, the other pressed against her abdomen. She wasn't crying, but her grief was plain to see. Grief and pain and strength, all jumbled up together to make her even more beautiful than she ever had been. I knew it was about more than just me, but I couldn't see the 'more'. My heart hurt even worse for having seen her.

I saw and I knew…and maybe I should have been awestruck, thunderstruck, dumbstruck, but I wasn't. I was…angry. I felt cold inside. I felt betrayed and so very much more, but none of what I was feeling made me want to drop and seek His favour. I wasn't about to backtrack or grovel. I wasn't going to throw myself on His mercy. Me and God, we had some things to discuss…

"In these politically correct times, I would appreciate it if you'd think of me as The Great Spirit, or just plain Grandfather."

"I'm not an Indian," I reminded him coldly.

"Maybe you're more one than you think you are," he shot back.

"Then why do you keep calling me wasichu?"

"It's just my pet name for you. No bigs."

"And if it offends me?" which it truly didn't.

"Then, in the words of Don Henley, 'get over it'. After all, what's really in a name?"

"You tell me."

"Okay, go ahead, call me 'God'. Just say it," and I did.

"You see, you might hear 'God', but I hear 'Great Spirit', 'Grandfather', 'All Father'. You talk to me, I hear Cheyenne, Lakota, many different dialects from many different tribes. I talk to you and you still hear the same thing. I call you wasichu and that's what you hear, not 'Whiteman'. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"

"Less and less as all this goes on."

"You're angry with me, just as Standing Bear is. You've been angry with me for a long time now. You think I'm responsible for your parents' dying. You think I had some way in that."

"Didn't you?" I demanded. "If you're who I think you are, by whatever name, then aren't you responsible for all life on Earth?"

"I am the creator of all life, but not necessarily responsible for what becomes of those lives. You have a daughter. When she was small and growing, yes, you were responsible for her. You created her. You took care of her. You fed her and provided all that she needed to live and grow, but are you honestly responsible for everything she does? Every little thing? Growing up, there were times she defied you. Times she turned her back on the things you'd taught her and gone out on her own. She exerted her own will and made her own path in the world. Are you responsible for her choices, knowing that you taught her all that you knew, but she chose to learn her own Truths?"

He paused for a moment. Leaned closer to me.

"You are a father, just as I am. You know the ways of a child."

"But I'm not 'all-powerful' or 'all-knowing', the way you're supposed to be. I'm a man. A mere human."

"In your daughter's eyes, through the years, you have been 'all-knowing' and 'all-powerful'. She has sought your approval and your forgiveness, countless times. We're not so different, you and I."

What the hell was I supposed to say to that? Me and the Great Spirit, we were 'dad-buddies'.

"Maybe I can show you something that will make this clear to you."

He went to pull something off his tunic. I noticed then what he was wearing. Soft tanned hides made in to clothes. Maybe of a colour once upon a time, but now, faded by the sun and the years. Fringes down the sleeves of his shirt. Beadwork in intricate patterns. The Sacred Circle, the symbol of life. The Four Directions. The eagle feather attached to one of his long, grey braids.

Silver circles attached to the fringes across his shirt. Buffalo hair hanging from those circles. I let my gaze wander quickly around the tipi.

There, a buffalo skull, a bundle of sage smouldering inside of it, and over there, next to the flap that served as a doorway, a staff made from a tree branch, forked at the top, holding another buffalo skull in its cradle. Feathers and bells hung off the staff, tied on with leather thongs.

Wakan Tanka - The Great Spirit. TatankaMani – Walking Buffalo

"And so, you know my name now…"

I drew my eyes back to him, to his hand as it pulled a tuft of buffalo hair from the fringe above his heart.

"This," he said, as he dropped the hair in to the fire, "is the beginning of All Human Life," and as the hair caught fire, it curled up and sent an incredible amount of sparks spinning and dancing around the room. As I watched them swirl up towards the top of the tipi, unreal images filled my mind. Good old Owl Man, he began to sing, not in words, but tones, and…

I saw myself, but I was all men. I was in bed with a woman, who was all women. I couldn't clearly see her face, but I was poised above her. Naked. We both were; we all were. I plunged myself inside of her while all around us, the same act of sex was going on, in various forms. It didn't matter how it was done, just that it was done.

I felt my climax building with each stroke until I just couldn't hold it back any longer. I came and the moment I did, one of those sparks that danced around me where I sat, shot through the darkened room where I saw myself, passed through me and entered the woman beneath me.

Was I seeing the moment of Cady's creation? Was this Martha beneath me? It had to be. She was the only one I'd ever had a child with.

It was over and I saw myself drop down beside her. Watched myself reach out and pull her close to me. Heard my rapid breathing begin to slow down as she cuddled up to me.

"That was…incredible!" she breathed against my neck.

Had Martha ever said anything like that to me? I couldn't recall a time that she ever had. I saw myself pull this woman closer to me, laughing low in my throat, and telling her that it was indeed 'incredible'. I'd never felt anything quite like it.

Like a movie, the shot began to pan back. No more close-ups and I saw the bed we were laying on, the room that bed resided in and it was my cabin. Firelight danced across the walls and the smell of wood smoke and sweet grass filled my head.

This wasn't right! There'd been no cabin back in those days. Sure, it existed, but we didn't live there, not before Cady was born and not until after she was finished high school. And Cady, to the best of my knowledge and as far as I was willing to believe, was concieved in the barn of Martha's parents' place, on a bed of hay and not on a store-bought mattress and box-spring, plunked in to the log bed I'm made myself, just before we moved in to the cabin.

With my mind, I became the cameraman. I wrestled for control of what I was seeing. There was a bit of resistance, but I won and I zoomed back in. Concentrated on the woman beside me. Even before I saw the blonde hair, I knew it was Vic. I'd know that sleek, toned body of hers anywhere…

"Just what the hell are you showing me, old man?" and God he might be, but that didn't give him the right to screw around with my life. He'd already done enough of that, no matter what he said to the contrary, but now, I was sitting across from him and the urge to choke the life, or whatever, out of him was almost overwhelming.

His eyes had widened, in shock? Something. He knew what I was thinking, that's for sure and for once, he wasn't laughing…

…but someone else was…


End file.
